


Confessions of a Bennett Witch: Possessing the Mikaelsons

by Literary_Spirit



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, F/M, Humor, Multi, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 90,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literary_Spirit/pseuds/Literary_Spirit
Summary: Bonnie Bennett prefers going through life standing just beyond the spotlight. The shadows are her comfort zone. That is until the Mikaelson's move back to Mystic Falls and decides she's the solution to their original problem. While in turn making her a beacon for all things supernatural. Now that Bonnie’s shadows are gone will her darkness ever grow to accept the light? Pairings TBD.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Warning there’s not only smut in this chapter, but there’ll also be a crap ton of lemonade throughout this story. It’s rated M for a reason, my fellow Bonnie lovers. So if you’re not with it then I’ll completely understand and for those of you who wish to proceed, please remember to buckle your seatbelts and strap on you helmets, this road is cluttered and broken.* Okay so Francesca and I are working on something new. This WIP begins at the end of 01X01 TVD and swerves recklessly out of the canon plot line into a very strange AU! So you’ve been warned! Flame it or acclaim in comments. I’ll leave it up to the Bennett Fandom on whether this hot mess of a WIP lives to see another update! 
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Bonnie Bennett glared down at her smashed to hell pager. “Fucking, fuckery, fuck!”

She cringed after the string of no-no words leapt from her mouth. Unholy hell. Well, that would be another fifteen dollars for the swear jar. Her Grams had created the damn thing before she passed away. It was meant to help her broaden her vocabulary now it would probably be what put her through college.

For reasons she never really wanted to consider, she still faithfully added money to the jar whenever one of those slippery bastards (swear words) tumbled from her lips. Which fortunately only occurred when she was upset, stressed, depressed, bored, or angry. Okay, when she reflected upon it, half of her verbal interactions consisted of inappropriate phrases. Who the hell was she fooling? Her tongue had never met an explicit word it couldn’t commit to.

Her glare left her broken pager to assess the front wheel of her bike. The damn thing had nearly folded in half. Well, it could’ve been worse. Instead of Caroline Forbes making her crash her bike into one of the wooden poles of Wickery Bridge, she could’ve simply knocked her over the rail. Bonnie wondered if the vapid bitch would’ve stopped then. She shook her head. Probably not. Why would she?

Bonnie Bennett was selectively invisible to the Mystic Falls’ High elite. The only time any of those beautiful vultures ever acknowledged her was when they wanted to score some mushrooms and organic Mary J from her Grams garden or if they wanted to purchase a term paper. Other than that, she could walk down the halls bare assed wearing nothing but a smile and no one would raise even a threaded eyebrow. However, their impaired vision on all things Bonnie Bennett suited her just fine. She preferred living her day to day in between the lines. It afforded her certain privacies those who basked in the spot light were denied.

Yet, that evening she could’ve used just a bit of the spotlight. Not only was her bike a fucking tragedy, but her ankle was busted all to hell too. Without a ride or a phone, she’d have to limp her happy ass all the way home. Unless, the caretaker of the Mikaelson Estate took pity on her and allowed her to call a taxi. Bonnie didn’t hold out much hope, though.

She honestly couldn’t remember the last time the old crusty son of a bitch opened the wrought iron front gates. Maybe it was the last time the Mikaelsons were actually in residence. But when the hell was that? She’d lived in Mystic Falls all of her life and she’d never so much as caught a glimpse of the family. Talk was, they travelled year round and the Mikaelson Estate was only one of many properties they owned. And if rumors danced close to fact, then the residence should be in possession of at least one damn phone.

Not wanting to linger any longer on the bridge which hosted a shit ton of animal attacks, Bonnie struggled to drag her bike to the grassy area under the Wickery sign. Once she chained it to the wooden pole, she began to limp towards the Estate. It took her fifteen slow as shit minutes to reach the intercom outside the gates. To her surprise the house twinkled with a dozen or so lights too many. A frown crumpled her face. Normally, the house stood cloaked in shadows around that time of evening. For a brief second she found herself hesitating to press the intercom button. However, the aching throb of her ankle gave her the motivation she required to ring the caretaker.

A few moments after the crackly sound subsided an elderly voice answered. “Yes?”

“Hi,” she said, trying her damnest to put on her sweetest good girl voice. “I just wrecked my bike on Wickery Bridge and broke my pager. Would it be possible for me to use your phone?”

Without explanation the intercom went silent. When she moved to press the button again, the gates swung open. Her eyes nearly hit the paved driveway at the sight of an old school Bentley pulling to a stop at the entrance. Seconds later, the—older than sand—caretaker exited the driver seat and shuffled around the car to open the back door.

Bonnie hobbled over to the car. Once there, she eased herself into the back seat. After closing the door, it took him every bit of eight minutes to reclaim his seat behind the steering wheel and another ten before he pulled the Bentley in front of the huge French glass double doors at the front of the Mansion. Deciding not to wait another twenty minutes for the caretaker to open her door, she slid from the backseat.

By the time she’d limped to the entrance, the caretaker had pulled the car away from the front of the house. Soon as she teetered to a stop on the proverbial welcome mat, the doors swung open. The air thickened right before several intoxicating forces nearly knocked her to the ground. An electric pulsing sensation shot from her center and surged through her vessels. The pulsating pooled in the palms of her hands, while forcing its way outward to thrum just beneath the surface of her skin. It was almost as if the intense vibrations deep within her responded to the pounding energy pouring from the mansion.

Bonnie stood on the fucking precipice. Her spidey senses told her that if she leaped nothing in her world would ever be the same. If she turned back now her life would resume unchanged. Being a habitual creature who never deviated from patterns or set routines, she knew the choice she should’ve selected. However, the draw beyond the threshold appealed to her way more than the comfort of her normal resting state. She inhaled enough oxygen for two and stepped inside before she had the chance to second guess her sanity.

Once inside the doors automatically closed behind her. Bonnie barely took notice. The spacious ornate foyer held her focus. Truth was, she didn’t know what the hell to ogle first. From the massive crystal chandelier suspended at least sixty feet off the ground to the floor to ceiling marbled columns, everything vied for her absolute attention.

She couldn’t believe people actually lounged in such a cushy lap of luxury. She’d never seen anything so…lavish. Not even Zach Salvatore’s Boarding House could hold a blow torch to the Mikaelson Estate and his mansion was believed to be the nicest in town. That’s if one didn’t count the Lockwood Plantation. And she didn’t. The slave quarters the Lockwood’s still maintained on their property snatched them right out of the running.

The fine hair stood on the back of her neck as goose bumps pebbled the skin on her arms. She was being watched. Of course she was being watched. Whoever maintained the place alongside the caretaker probably wanted to make sure a few priceless knick-knacks didn’t find its way into her pockets.

“Hello,” A feminine voice greeted her from behind.

She limped around to face the owner of the voice. A sophisticated middle age lady stood before her looking like she’d just taken a bath in one percent privilege. The ends of her silky blond hair fell a couple of inches below her jawline in a professionally tapered bob to frame a passingly attractive oval shaped face. Tasteful, but expensive jewelry twinkled from her ears, wrist, and neck. The low-key touch brought a little more glamour to the understated white sundress she wore. After a head to toe assessment, she concluded there was no way in hell this woman was the housekeeper.

Bonnie cleared her throat. “Hey, I’m Bonnie Bennett.” The woman’s assessing blue gaze slightly flared with recognition. “I wrecked my bike a couple of hundred yards back on Wickery Bridge and totaled my fucking pager.” Shit! Another five dollars for the swear jar. She squeezed her eyes closed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to swear,” she mumbled before retraining her gaze on the older lady who looked more amused than offended. “But in my defense this day has been a total shi-…” she shook her head, “never mind. Would it be okay if I used your phone?”

“Absolutely, Miss Bennett,” the woman said, while strolling further into the foyer. “And before I misremember my manners allow me to introduce myself. I’m Esther Mikaelson.”

Surprise stretched Bonnie’s eyes wide. No fucking way! Wait until the founding families got an ear full of this news. Carol Lockwood would no doubt wet her panties when she heard the Mikaelsons had come to town. She mentally shook her head as she limped forward to grasp Mrs. Mikaelson extended hand.

The corners of the woman’s mouth travelled south under the weight of a frown as she gazed down at Bonnie’s sneakers. “Were you harmed?” Mrs. Mikaelson questioned as her intense stare reestablished eye contact between them.

“Think I sprained my ankle,” she said, while lifting her injured limb. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I get some ice on it, though.”

Esther’s brow puckered. “Finn!”

“Yes, mother?” A tall—totally fuckable—man appeared from behind the same door Esther exited.

“Miss Bennett-,”

“Miss Bennett?” He questioned with an arched brow.

“Yes…Miss Bennett, this is my eldest son Finn,” she shot the man a pointed glare before continuing. “Miss Bennett has unfortunately injured herself during a biking expedition. Would you do a great kindness and carry her to the beige and gold sitting room?”

“That’s not necessary. I can walk-,”  

“Of course, mother,” he said, before turning to approach her. The atmosphere around him crackled. Waves of intoxicating energy seeped from him and tentatively swirled around her, all while taking care not to make contact. The temperature of her body crept north. When he towered over her, he paused, “May I, Miss Bennett?”

“Really, it’s not-,”

Without giving her time to finish her sentence, he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than an arm full of feathered pillows. He then swiftly made his way deeper into the mansion. After a few minutes of sprinting, he stopped in front of a set of closed doors. An array of voices drifted to them from inside the room. Finn took a step back to allow Esther to enter ahead of them.

Upon the opening of the door, a wall of highly charged energy slammed into her and lit her the fuck up. Her body temperature sky rocketed and leaped of the damn meter as if she’d been tossed into a hell blaze. Combined magnetic forces pricked at the exposed surface of her skin. She became extremely cognizant of Finn’s hard frame firmly pressed against her side. A fantasy of her running her hands over hills of rigid muscles while he stood before her in all his bare ass glory, blasted away her conscious regard for shame. Without out grazing two thoughts together, she began to rub her cheek back and forth over his pec. The growl her actions elicited provoked her nipples to tighten almost to the point of being painful.

“Well, well! Look what the Finn managed to drag in, Bekah,” a boy with precision cut sable tresses snarked from his place in one of the armchairs positioned in front of the fire place. He watched her with unblinking chocolate brown eyes that was downright predatory in nature. His calculated serial killer stare should’ve scared her crapless. Yet, all she could manage to think was…hmm, dessert! “Do say you’re intending to share, brother.” Finn’s hold tightened around her.

“Curb your vile tongue, Kol. Miss Bennett is a guest in our home and you would do well to honor her as such.” Esther hissed as she impaled him with a glare that would’ve made Satan piss his pants.

Guest? She just wanted to use the damn phone.

“Bennett?” A jaw dropping blond bombshell questioned from a satin bronzed sofa.

Finn gently placed her on the opposing loveseat. “Yes, Rebekah. This is Miss Bonnie Bennett.” His slightly timid gaze found hers as he positioned a pillow under her ankle. “Miss Bennett, these are my siblings Kol and Rebekah.”

Faster than her eyes could track, Rebekah shot from the sofa and reappeared again as she placed Bonnie’s ankle in her lap.

“Fucking, fuckery, fuck! Am I having a stroke or did you just imitate a fucking Lambo?” Shit, another twenty for the swear jar.

Rebekah’s mouth fell open and a chortle tumbled forth. Finn tsked his expression absolutely scandalized. Esther’s eyebrows leaped into her hairline and Kol…wait…where the hell was Kol? Moments later she was lifted from the loveseat cushion and resettled in a hard bulging lap. Cool lips nuzzled the crook of her neck as something steamy floated from a tea cup that hovered in front of her face.

“Sweetness, your wicked terminology enflames me. Curiously, I find myself longing for the affordable affections of an all too willing dockside harlot,” Kol whispered next to her ear. “Here, have some tea while it’s still warm. It’ll do wonders for your injured ankle.”

With no further warning, Kol placed the tea cup to her lips and spilled the contents down her throat. To prevent herself from, choking she swallowed the metallic tasting tea. As she drank her thoughts spun the hell out in her head. How the…where the…something was extremely twisted about the Mikaelsons. Strength, beauty, and speed. She felt as if someone had dropped her off in a damn Twilight flick. Had she been one of those drugged out hippy, dippy, students Grams used to invite over for dinner, she’d truly believe herself to be in a house overran with vampires.

“Mother, will you not correct Kol on his forwardness in regards to Miss Bennett,” Finn demanded, while attempting to commit visual homicide on his younger brother.

“ _Kol,”_ Esther spit, her tone warning.

The caretaker appeared in the open doorway of the room. “Lady Mikaelson, Lord Niklaus wishes you attend him on the telephone.”

Telephone? That’s what the hell she needed!

“Excuse, Miss Bennett. I won’t be but a moment,” she rose from seat next to a large paned window. “I’ll receive the call in my study Hannibal.” She sashayed from the room and the door softly clicked closed after her.

“Oh, brother of mine. Celeste has yet to launder our unmentionables.” Kol paused to blow a stream of cool air in her ear. The walls of her pop rocker quavered. “Why not preoccupy yourself with sniffing mother’s soiled knickers. Your absence will allow Bonnie and me an opportunity to become better acquainted.”

After she finished drinking the tea, Kol pushed the cup and saucer into Finn’s hands. She opened her mouth to bless him with some more of her, _wicked terminology_ , when she noticed the throbbing in her ankle stopped.

Flexing her ankle back and forth, she side eyed Kol. “What the hell was in that tea?”

“Family recipe,” he said with wide guiltless doe eyes. He, however, looked about as innocent as a wolf covered in blood and feathers.

Rebekah snorted as she stroked her now apparently uninjured ankle. The vibrations which pulsed from the tips of her fingers triggered her to squeeze her thighs together to assuage a whole other throbbing. When the youngest Mikaelson licked her painted rosy lips, liquid heat flooded Bonnie’s center. What the fuck? When had girls ever done it for her? Not that a boy had ever done it to her, but still. All her crushes over the last few years were geared towards the opposite sex. She’d never thought about a girl in such a way.

Uncomfortable in her own damn skin, Bonnie hopped from Kol’s lap to put distance between her and the Mikaelson siblings. “Look, I just needed to use the phone. But since my ankle is-,”

“Brilliant.” Rebekah climbed to her feet and grabbed her wrist. She then dragged her towards the door. “You can use the one in my room.” When Kol moved to follow, Rebekah speared him with an over the shoulder glare, before saying, “no boys allowed!”

                                                        

* * *

 

Rebekah covertly watched Bonnie Bennett through her lashes as she painted the tiny witch’s toes. Nik’s spies in Mystic Falls hadn’t exaggerated. She was exquisite. Her smooth bronzed brown skin appeared to be quite edible. The way it stretched uninterrupted over her hills, peaks, valleys, and dips, compelled her tongue to glide back and forth across her bottom lip. She couldn’t refrain herself from imagining the lovely dove stripped bare and reclining in the center of her bed with her luxurious chocolate tresses fanned out about her head. Quite the fetching sight she’d make to be sure.

Vanilla, coconuts, and the sensually mouthwatering scent of arousal tempted Rebekah’s nostrils. Her core clenched as a hint of a smile flirted with her lips. It pleased her to know the witch struggled with her lust as well. The proof saturated the air with her delectable fragrance. The sweet attar, teasingly baited and ensnared them. Even now Kol stood vigil outside her bedroom door. While Finn had abandoned his perpetual crusade of self-loathing to recite aloud, Napoleon’s love letters to Josephine. In verity, they’d all become rather batty for Bonnie.

If the witch caused this big of an uproar in the house of Mikaelson before the manifestation of her powers, they would all be raving lunatics after her quickening.

“What’d you think, Dove? Do you fancy them?” Rebekah questioned, while tightening the top on the nail polish.

The witch’s enthralling green eyes slightly narrowed as she peered down at her toes. “Um…they’re really red.”

Rebekah rolled her eyes as she placed the fingernail polish back on the night stand. “How perceptive of you, Miss Bennett,” she said, allowing sarcasm to thread itself through her tone. “Do you have the inclination to inform me on the blondness of my hair as well?”

“Whoa, there’s no need to take the leash off the bitch. All I’m saying is-,”

“Hmm…” The witch’s sentence skidded to a halt when the blonde original began to massage her shapely calves. “What were you saying, Dove?”

“I…” the little beauty paused to swallow. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Oh…” she murmured, while she allowed her fingers to inch up Bonnie’s jean clad thigh. “Well, I’m relieved. The task of pleasing you is extremely important to me.” The heel of her palm connected with the lovely dove’s crotch.

A breathy moan crept from the split of the witch’s lips. “Rebekah, I’m not into…ahh…ooh…” Bonnie whimpered as the youngest original began to grind her hand into her witch’s denim clad mound.

“Shh, Dove,” she whispered, while urging the witch to lie back on the pillow-top mattress. “It’s just us girls…”

Rebekah moved to straddle Bonnie’s lap. She then leaned forward and brushed her mouth against the witch’s to gauge how receptive she’d be to a kiss. The Bennett witch’s arms slithered around her neck and drew her closer. Once Rebekah’s mouth loomed over hers, she lifted her head from the mattress to close the distance. Since her lovely little dove initiated the kiss she allowed the tiny witch to take the lead. However, when it became blatantly apparent she’d never been properly snogged, the original reclaimed control.

With the tip of her tongue, she traced the seam of Bonnie’s lips. A moment later the witch opened her mouth and granted her entrance. The sweet taste of her extracted a throaty moan from Rebekah and motivated her lower half to grind into Bonnie’s. Pretty soon the witch’s hips began to rise from the mattress to meet her wild writhing thrusts. Each of their whimpers and moans climbed in volume until their lips tingled and the press of their joined mouths could no longer suppress the sounds.

The beautiful witch tore her lips away. “Holy fuck, Rebekah!” The lovely dove gasped as her fingers dug into the blonde’s hips. “Oh my damn!”

Her fingers tangled themselves in Bonnie’s wavy tendrils. “Die with me, Dove,” Rebekah demanded as felt the first spasm of an orgasm lick at her lower abdomen and the walls of her core. “Die with me!” She hissed again as she began to wind her hips in a fast circular motion, slamming her center down hard every so often, nudging them ever closer to a phenomenal end.

“Fuck me…oh just fuck me!” The tiny witch wailed. “Just fuck, fuck, fuuuck…don’t move, right there…ooh there, Rebekah…”

“Oh, Dove…” The original whimpered. “We’re almost there…just a little bit more and-,”

A knock sounded on the door right before it opened. Using Original speed, Rebekah propelled herself over to her desk and pretended to paint her nails. Her mother waltzed in followed by her eldest brother who in turn eyed her with reproach. The bloody hypocrite. If he was so dismayed by her dalliance with the Bennett Witch, his John Thomas wouldn’t be saluting one and all at present.

By this time Bonnie had propped herself up on her elbows. Passion still glazed her eyes as she struggled to come to terms with the loss of a well-earned orgasm.

Her mother cleared her throat as a measuring stare evaluated the tiny witch. “Miss Bennett, Hannibal is waiting in the car to drive you home.”

“O-Okay,” the lovely dove stammered. She slid from the bed and slipped her feet in her shoes as she rolled her socks into a ball and pocketed them.

Rebekah waited until a mere second before the witch crossed the threshold and said, “See you at school tomorrow, Bonnie.”

                                                             

* * *

 

Esther and Finn stood upon the walkway waving as Hannibal drove away with the Bennett Witch. The poor child appeared confused and a bit out of sorts. Rebekah must’ve overextended the little dear. She’d have a word with her children about overwhelming the girl. They wanted her receptive to erotic hunger. Pressure her and the witch may very well deny her passion in favor of moral standing. Why her ancestor Patience Bennett had sought refuge in a convent after a single evening with Kol (the reprehensible little sod). Praise the goddess she wasn’t the Bennett referenced in the prophecy.

No, her children must take care with this one. For she was the last and the most powerful of her line. She was the one Ayana spoke of so many centuries before. Her blood, desire and acceptance was the key which would unlock Niklaus’ beastly side, giving him leave to thwart nature and revolutionize the supernatural order.

For nigh a thousand years, Bennett witch after Bennett witch had paraded through their existences, each one more powerful than the last. Yet, none were ever the Prophesized Bennett. Why, repeated failure nearly coerced them into foregoing the foretelling altogether. They’d even returned to Mystic Falls to sever ties with the dreadful town once and for all, but then by some misstep of fate the Prophesized Bennett had found them. Just strolled right up to the gates and pressed the buzzer. How fortunate were they?

Everything was aligning as it should. There, however, was one hindrance in their meticulously plotted plan. The girl knew nothing of the supernatural community or the fact she was a witch. She was completely ignorant of her magic and lineage. According to Hannibal, her grandmother had perished before she could reveal the Bennett heritage to the child. Since the girl’s mother shirked her parental responsibilities to take on the role as savior to a wretch not of her blood line, Bonnie’s induction into the craft fell to her. Aside from her off springs, Bonnie Bennett would be her greatest accomplishment. A closed lip smile settled upon her lips.

“What are your thoughts on the lovely Bennett Witch, my favored child?” Esther questioned as she watched the automobile leave the wrought iron gates.

Finn released a sigh, which conveyed his longing for the tiny magical fairy. “I’m moved to approve, mother. She’s most enticing.”

“If we’re to succeed in our machinations, you’ll have to see your siblings remain in step with the design. A mild flirtation with the witch is most assuredly welcomed. Anything more daring, however, should be solely instigated by her,” she said, casting her glance to the side to consider Finn. “You shall see to this on my behalf will you not, my son?”

“Of course, Mother.”

 

                                        


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning there’s a lemonade flood on aisle two, so if you’re not Gucci with the juicy sour…ABORT!!!!!* Okay so the consensus Francesca and I gathered was to keep this WIP on the road so that’s exactly what we plan to do. First off, thanks for showing love with the follows, favorites, and comments. It means everything to us! And just to be clear, we doing this one for the Bennett fandom. So when we say pairing is TBD that’s all on y’all. Whether it be one or all. The power to choose is completely yours my fellow Bonnie lovers. Okay, disclaimer! Run it!
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

“What the fuck did you sale Vicki last night?” Was the first thing Bonnie heard from Jeremy Gilbert upon slamming her locker door shut.

She swung a glance from left to right to make sure no one had heard, before drilling him with a homicidal glare. “Jeremy, if you don’t shut the hell up I swear to…” she faked a smile when she saw the assistant principle watching them as he passed. “And if you’re talking about Vicki Donovan, then that’d be not a damn thing. That bitch is—down the rabbit hole—cray and it’ll take more than hand full of mushrooms or organic Mari J to get her to Wonderland.”

“Well someone gave her something,” he hissed in a lowered voice. “After she was attacked-,”

“Attacked?” She muttered. “Let me guess, another animal attack. Good ole sheriff Forbes cracks another-,”

Icey unawareness of something that should be known, sleeted her brain vessels and gave birth to one hellified brain freeze. She dropped to her knees while clutching her head as gory images assaulted her mind’s eye. Images of a dark haired human monster gnawing on Vicki’s neck.

“Bonnie?!” Jeremy kneeled in front of her, grabbing the sides of her face. “What’s wrong with you? Are you alright?”

The visions ceased as quickly as they started. “Son of a-,”

“Jeremy, is she okay?” The sound of Elena Gilbert’s concerned voice forced her eyes to roll. “What’d she take?”

“Fuck a soft one, Elena,” she said as she allowed Jeremy to help her to stand. “I don’t fucking sale and inhale!”

“Calm down.” A guy she’d never seen before a day in her life, stepped forth to stand at the brunette’s side. “There’s no need to make a scene.” He glanced over his shoulder at the slow walking looky loos moving up and down the halls. “We only want to help.”

A chuckle geronimoed from the split of her stunned lips. “We?” She arched a brow as her questioning gaze darted from Elena to Jeremy.

“This is fucking dumb. I’m outta of here. Page you later, Bonnie,” Jeremy said, before spinning on his heel to walk away.

“Damn it! Jeremy,” Elena called after him.

“I’m going to the hospital to see Vickie. Deal with it, Elena,” he called back before rounding the corner.

Bonnie ignored the, _Flowers in the Attic_ , scene unfolding in the hall to run an assessing gaze over the green-eyed stranger who appeared to have had his hair cut by Edward Scissorhands. Upon conclusion of her assessment, she tooted her lips. To the normal teenage population sexually inclined to rate him, he’d probably earn a solid nine across the board. She, however, wasn’t the normal teenage population, and she found him working with too many have not’s.

For one, he did not have a British accent, silky blonde hair, and cerulean eyes that darkened to a sapphire hue when they were close to a major blow out. He also didn’t have the knee weakening height, the—I know I’m the shit—arrogance, or a wicked, panty desecrating, smirk to get the type of points he needed to rock a ten in her book. He was about as boring and lame as the Mary Sue at his side. A soft five was the best rating he’d ever get out of her.

“When he pages you, do him a favor and ignore it.” Captain save a bitch said in a lowered voice. “From my understanding, the kid is going through a lot and it’ll be better for all involved if you kept your distance.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Bonnie mentally shook her head. Seriously, she was going to need a bigger swear jar.

The epic teenage fail raised his hands as if he were attempting to calm an armed purse snatcher. Cautiously, he stepped closer and stared her directly in the pupils. “Walk away and never speak to Elena or Jeremy Gilbert again.” He whispered, this time so low she doubted anyone else but her heard him.

“No, you’re the one who needs to motherfucking walk away and take her nosy ass with you.” The guy’s green gaze flared. What, did he actually think she wouldn’t bring it to his ass after he sent for it? “And as for me never speaking to Jeremy again, that’s on him.”

Teen Fail’s eyes narrowed as he stepped damn near on top of her to eyeball the hell out of her features. An electrical surge shot from her center and hurtled through her vessels. _Threat!_ The insidious thought slithered from a very dark crevice in her mind. Her pulsing hands fisted at her sides. If he took one more step she would fuck him up. She didn’t know how, but something inside screamed that she could. He must’ve sensed it too, because he took a step back.

“Stefan?” Elena questioned as her brandy wine colored irises swung from her to him.

“There you are, Lovely Dove. My apologies for the delay, it would seem an entire forest was slaughtered to register Kol and I into this abysmal den of miseducation,” Rebekah said, appearing out of thin air at her side. She looped arms with her, before giving her attention over Stefan. “Ripper, what the devil are you doing here?”

Just when Bonnie thought Stefan couldn’t get any whiter he turned translucent. He blinked. “I…I’m sorry. You have me confused,” he stammered, while backing away.

Elena’s face scrunched. “You know her, Stefan?”

“Know me?” Rebekah tsked. “Oh, love…he was obsessed with me. There wasn’t a night we didn’t paint Chicago in the most succulent red. I, in fact, find myself pondering how many more names you’ve added to our wall of decadence.”

Stefan looked like he’d just been pegged without the benefit of Vaseline, while Rebekah preened in the basking glow of his wrong end violation.

Unholy fuck! Was she actually flirting with Captain Cliché? “Would you two like to continue whatever the hell this is alone?” Bonnie questioned with a quirked brow as she waved a hand between the two.

“Yeah,” Elena agreed as she rejoined the impromptu gathering at her damn locker. “What is this, Stefan?”

“Dove-,” Rebekah began.

“Whatever what is, darling?” Kol appeared at her other side. His arm slid around her waist without even a second of hesitation and her body melted in to his without further deliberation.

Kol considered Elena and Stefan through narrowed eyes as a malicious smirk perched upon his life altering lips. Fuck, he was sexy. A gush of wetness heralded the ruination of her cotton whites. She noticed a slight twitch in Kol’s nostrils right before his intense stare swung back to regard her. Damn! More gushiness. She was sooo twisted.

“Wow, another new hot guy,” Caroline’s high pitch soprano cut through the mounting tension. “And my birthday isn’t for another six months.”

An exhale forced its way out of Bonnie’s mouth. “Well if it isn’t the poster girl of insecurities. You nearly ran me off Wickery Bridge last night, Britney Spears! I’ll be sending you the bill for my pager and bike.”

“Oh my god.” Elena’s hands flew to cover her mouth. “Is that what really happened to the bumper of your car, Care?”

“And I don’t do checks,” Bonnie said, ignoring Elena’s compulsive disorder to be front and center. “Mama’s gonna need cash.”

Caroline scoffed. “As if, Bennett. And Pager? They still make those?” She waved Bonnie off and extended her hand to Kol. “Hi, I’m Caroline Forbes.”

Kol swept a critical stare over Caroline’s hand before returning his gaze to Stefan. “Did I overhear you call this unremarkable toddler Ripper, Bekah?”

“You know very well you did, Kol,” she answered, while locking hands with Bonnie. A show of affection neither Elena nor Caroline missed.

“So you’re the sodding wanker Nik’s always on about… _The Ripper_.” Kol used his free hand to emphasize the title.

Stefan positioned himself in front of Elena. “Who the hell are you?” The darkness of his scowl shaded Rebekah first, and then Kol.

“See it’s what I’ve told you all along, baby sister.” Kol gave Rebekah a sideways smirk. “You’re utterly forgettable.”

“He doesn’t remember me because our dear brother willed it so, you arse,” Rebekah snapped.

When the first period bell rang, Bonnie disentangled herself from the Mikaelson’s. Once free, she moved towards the center of the hall to escape the drama in which both siblings seemed to thrive. Without a word of explanation, she spun on her heel to head in the direction of her English class.

Hopefully everyone, including the Mikaelsons, would take the hint and leave her the fuck alone. She hadn’t withered in this much attention since the summer after fifth grade. It’s the summer Abby left and she, Elena, and Caroline stopped being friends. She’d withdrawn within herself and neither of her so called besties appeared to notice.

When she made it to her first period class, she took the seat at the back of the room. Not even a minute later Rebekah and Kol followed. The breath snatching blonde took the desk in front of her, while the walking embodiment of carnal sin slid into the chair next to hers. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Elena and her stalker hurried into the room a few minutes after. Her eyes rolled as her hope for solitude slipped further away.

For the remainder of the class period they all participated in a battle of the glares, stares, and gazes. Upon learning Kol and Rebekah’s last, name the class gazed at them like they both wore crowns. The Mikaelsons, however, only seemed to have eyes for her. While Stefan on the other hand glared at the Mikaelson siblings as if the anti-Christ sired them. And that was only when he wasn’t gazing at Elena as if she had rainbows shooting from the crotch of her panties. Yet, even after all of his eye stalking, he still managed to find time to send a few curious stares her way.

Poor Elena didn’t know where to look so she trained her gaze straight ahead, while Bonnie twisted her facial muscles in an expression that she prayed said, _fuck you all_!

By the time the end of period bell rang, she was done. Just done! After she stuffed her books in her bag, she hauled ass from the class. Her goal? To put at least fifty-eleven feet between her and the Mikaelsons. Their attention grated on her nerves, while her body’s reaction to them confused the shit out of her. Whenever they came within ten feet of her vicinity, very sensitive parts of her anatomy, throbbed, ached, and apparently gushed. Her entire person felt like one giant exposed nerve.

Bonnie was one innuendo away from pulling Rebekah into a stall in the girl’s bathroom and demanding she finish what she started the night before. And Kol had one more damn time to stare at her like she wasn’t wearing stitch of clothing before she gave his sexy ass something to smirk about. If she hadn’t stated it before she was putting it on wood now…They both were driving her fucking bananas!

Bypassing her second period class, she headed for the auditorium. Inside, she sprinted to the stairs next to the stage. She swung her head from left to right to make sure no one paid her any attention. Once satisfied, she opened the concealed door under the stairs and crawled inside.

Tyler Lockwood sat under a dim light with his back to the wall and sketch pad resting on his knees. When she slid in next to him, he acknowledged her with a sideways glance before giving his attention back to his drawing, which was coincidently of Vicki. Matt’s sister. She rolled her eyes. Goddess, save her from alpha males and their misplaced hero complexes. Because everybody and their hairdressers knew Vickie Donovan didn’t wanna be saved!

“What brings you to my office, Bennett?” He questioned without sparing her another glance. “Did you wanna make out?”

“Nope, just hide out,” she answered as she allowed her eyes to slip closed.

He laughed. “What? You don’t wanna see me rub one out. I’m hurt. Are you over me already?”

“Eat me, Lockwood,” she said with no real conviction behind her words.

“I’ve tried, but you still refuse to allow me to even touch it.” He bumped her with his shoulder. “You’d think after four years, you’d let me get further than a few kisses and over the bra action.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She still remember the first time Tyler kissed her. Until the moment it happened, she’d never thought of Ty as being anything other than a spoiled annoying shit who craved attention. Then she caught a glimpse behind the curtain of Mystic Falls’ first family during half time at one of Tyler’s basketball games.

She’d just entered the seventh grade. Two years had passed since Abby walked out. By the time she turned thirteen, her dad had come to the conclusion he would no longer give her a pass to check out on life because her mother decided to leave. So he began demanding she participate in at least three school functions a month. The basketball game was the first event she attended.

For the first half of the game she sat alone and bored out of her fucking skull. If she’d had to spend another half hour watching Caroline and Elena compete over flashing their bloomers at Matt while supposedly practicing high kicks she would’ve clawed her damn eyes out. So when half time rolled around she decided to hide out behind the dumpster by the concession stand until the game ended.

After she’d taken a seat on one of the crates and settled in to listen to her IPod. Maybe thirty or so minutes later she spotted Mayor Lockwood and Tyler. The look on the Mayor’s face contradicted the mask of quiet wise contentment he wore for the good people of Mystic Falls. Veins bulged from his neck and forehead, while spittle sprayed from his mouth as he yelled. Ty wore a scared shitless expression as he visibly shook from head to sneakers.

The unsuspected scene provoked her to snatch the earbuds from her ears to listen. It would seem the virtuous Mayor Lockwood was pissed. Tyler had pretended to hurt his ankle so the coach would bench him for the remainder of the game. When Mayor Lockwood demanded he tell the coach his ankle no longer hurt, Ty refused. This didn’t surprise Bonnie. Making shit harder on everyone involved had been Tyler’s default setting since first grade. So when he explained, he wouldn’t tell the coach about his ankle because he’d pull Matt from the game to put him back in she found herself sitting on the edge of the crate ear hustling her ass off.

Plucking the question right off the tip of her tongue, the mayor asked Tyler why Matt being able to play mattered so much. He said it was because Matt’s mom had finally come to one of his games and he wanted her to see Matt play at least once. Well Bonnie completely understood his reasoning. She thought his actions were sweet and selfless. Mayor Lockwood on the other hand did not. For a full five minutes he smacked Tyler around and slung him into the dumpster a couple of times in an attempts to get him to change his mind. Even after all of his dad’s abuse, Ty still refused.

Several more minutes after being called every type of bastard under the stars, Mayor Lockwood stormed back into the gym. Instead of following his dad, Tyler duck behind the dumpster. When he saw her sitting there, they stared at each other for several seconds. During which time, they both came to a silent agreement to never talk about what happened.

Once those assurances were made, he came and sat on the crate next to hers. She passed him one of her earbuds and they sat their listening to music for a while until some bullshit inspirational tear jerking love song began to play. And for some reason watching each other’s lips became the most normal thing to do. Soon after, his mouth found hers and continued to do so periodically for the next four years.

“Touch it? Please, Lockwood. I bet you wouldn’t know what to do with this cookie even if I gave you the green light to take a bite,” she said, while side-eying him with a smirk.

“I’ll take that bet.” He tossed the tablet across the small space of the room. The picture of Vicki landed face down. “Now give me the damn green light and let’s find out.” Not screwing around with warnings, Tyler snatched her into his lap.

She laughed as she squirmed to regain her freedom. That is, until TJ rose up to poke her hello. “Stop, Ty. We both know I’m not who you want. If I really was, then this would’ve already have happened between us.”

“Come on, Bons. I’ve loved you since eighth grade,” he whispered next to her ear as he slightly bucked his hips. “I’d choose you every time if you woman-ed the hell up and gave me the option.”

Ty pressed a kiss to her collar bone, while his left hand gripped the nape of her neck. Sharp fingernails bit into her skin. The blend of pain and pleasure provoked a startled gasp to burst from her mouth. His right hand took the opportunity to slide down her spine and grab a fist full of ass. Tyler could be so rough sometimes and his touch always felt possessive. But who the hell was she bullshitting? His borderline viciousness during their play sessions turned her the fuck on each time. Hell, the last time they’d taken it there, he’d legit growled like a wild beast. Her world came undone and she’d almost let him shove his hand in her panties.

“Ugh.” She faked a groan to cover up the moan vibrating at the back of her throat. “We’ve already been through this, Tyler. Your mom and dad made themselves Windex clear.”

He tore his mouth away from her neck to frown at her. “That was at the beginning of eighth grade year. We’re juniors now.”

“So?” She cocked a brow as she returned his frown. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? I’m still black and my last name is still Bennett. No matter how many years get between now and then, those two things will never change about me, Tyler.”

“Bonnie, screw my parents,” he said as his fingers began massaging the nape of her neck. “I could give two fucks about what they think. So stop using them as an excuse to push me away.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” She ripped herself from his arms and slid out of his lap. When free of him, she stood. As she began putting her clothes to rights, she damn near slipped on Tyler’s sketch pad. Cursing under breath, she snatched the tablet from the floor only to come face to sketch with a smirking Vicki Donovan. Her eyes rolled.

“You know, if you would’ve said all of this to me three years ago, maybe then I would’ve believed you. Now,” she shook her head as she tossed the sketch pad to him, and then spun away, “you’d only be saying it to piss off your parents.” With her hand on the door knob, she chanced an over the shoulder glance at him. “You should really go see her by the way. Jeremy says she’s not doing too well.”

Not waiting on his practiced response, she fled their sanctuary. This time instead of searching out a place to hide, she opted to leave school altogether. Since her father was out of town yet again on business, there wouldn’t be any uncomfortable conversations at open house of why she decided to chuck deuces at Mystic Falls High for the remainder of the school day.

                                                            

* * *

 

Kol Mikaelson watched the little witch scurry from her hiding space under the stairs. The muscle in his jaw twitched. Rage simmered just beneath the surface of his deceptively calm exterior. A protracted burn threatened to incinerate the vow of compliance he declared to Esther and Nik upon being undaggered. A vow he’d no intention of keeping. For he’d meant to have his leave of his dysfunctional family as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Fate, however, rarely favors or respects the meticulous preparation of a well plotted plan. A verity she more than demonstrated when she deposited the ever enchanting Bennett Witch in his sights. Yes, the draw of her budding ancient magic intoxicated him, but he’d had dalliances with other witches from her prestigious lineage in centuries gone by. Yet, none of the others ever moved him to want to possess them. He’d most assuredly never wanted to call any of them his. Why the bleeding hell would he? They were nothing more than a means to unlocking his magic.

So what the sodding hell made Bonnie Bennett the exception? Perhaps, it was because when she caught a glimpse of the burning darkness that dwelled in the deepest parts of him, instead of fleeing as many of her ancestors had chosen to do in the past, she endeavored to taste the blackest part of his flames.

The obsidian coercion to covet her forged within him in a single moment. Niklaus be damned! Everything she was, would be his to claim. Her will, magic, body and heart. Unconditionally in such order.

That’s why the whelp under the stairs had to make the acquaintance of his end. He’d committed the grave error of touching what belonged to him. Kol already would have to suffer the bloody travesty of his siblings preparing his prized possession for the night of her quickening, he’d be an Original fool if he allowed an inconsequential human such liberties. The transgressions the two had nearly shared wouldn’t be permitted to leave the little sod’s tongue. Kol meant to make short work of him before his third period class. With his plan well in hand, he stood.

“Sit down, Kol,” the arrogant edge of his elder brother’s voice compelled him to reclaim his seat.

“Elijah,” Kol greeted the elder Original in an ice cold tone which would serve the sinners in hell well. “Would I be accurate in assuming you’re here to assess the Bennett witch’s charms before you partake in preparing her for the quickening?”

“I must confess my keenness has succeeded in besting my will,” Elijah’s reply floated down to him from the entry way of the theater. “Where might I go to seek her out?”

“My deepest regrets, brother. It would appear the little witch is well practiced in the art of truancy. She sought her leave several minutes before,” Kol said, while never removing his eyes from the utility closet under the theater stairs. “However, fear not, oh noble one. I’m sure the quite human Petrova doppelganger’s charms are more than sufficient to hold your amusement.”

A vile smirk toyed with Kol’s mouth upon the cracking of Elijah’s mask of impassivity. Bewilderment peeked through the crevices of his feigned indifference. One hundred years later and he still knew which strings to manipulate to force his siblings to cavort.

“The Petrova doppelganger you say?” Elijah questioned while attempting to school his features. “Has Niklaus been apprised of this development?”

“As of yet…no, but I’m sure Bekah will remedy the oversight soon enough,” He said, and then added an uninterested shrug for good measure.

“And what of you?” Elijah asked. His tone precise and deliberate.

Kol frowned as he observed a brawny, dark haired, human male exit the utility room under the stage stairs and dash away. Blast it Elijah! “Whatever do you mean, brother?” He forced through clenched teeth.

“Will you not deliver the news of the human doppelgänger to our perpetually mistrustful sibling? Such gratuity on his part may very well afford you decades free of the dagger.” Elijah’s voice drifted closer as he descended the theater steps.

Kol’s agitation over being denied a kill eased as he assessed the true meaning between his elder brother’s inquiries. The tenacious smirk reclaimed his lips. Elijah had yet to even meet the chit and already he endeavored to evaluate threats to the girl’s continued survival. Really, his sibling might as well had been a toddling child in possession of a purse filled with sweeties.

“Everything Nik has ever yearned for is nearly within his grasp. It’ll do him well if he’s made to stretch to obtain what he perceives as his,” he said as he gazed at his self-proclaimed noble brother from the cut of his eye.

Kol could sense the tension take leave of Elijah’s person. “Kol, I fear you may be right. Niklaus has never recognized value in treasures which are easily gained.” He turned and ascended the steps. Halfway up the stairs he paused to query him once more as predicted. “I do believe I’ll have a word with our dear sister while I’m here. Where can Rebekah be located at this hour?”

Kol’s smirk blossomed into an open lipped grin. “Have a peek in the dining hall. I’m told today’s meatloaf Tuesday.” Elijah lifted a brow and he shrugged in return. “Bekah insists upon behaving as an adolescent human, which apparently entails embracing blatant mediocrity.”

Elijah inclined his head once before flashing away. Kol resettled himself in his seat. Distracting his sibling had proven to be even more effortless than he initially thought. Now only Finn and Rebekah remained as contenders for the Bennett witch’s sultry charms. He chuckled to himself. Finn’s diversion would attend him shortly, while Rebekah’s digression only needed to be compelled to remember. Yes, victory was nigh and to the victor would go the Bennett.

                                                            

* * *

 

When Bonnie arrived home she noticed a black luxury Sedan parked in front of her house. The car had a temporary paper tag placed where the license plate should’ve resided. A frown tugged on the muscles in her face. Did her dad cut his business trip short? Had he finally given in and decided to buy her a brand new car? Gawd, she hoped so.

Pedal pushing had played out in ninth grade when all of her ex friends began receiving cars. Rudy, however, refused. He’d claimed not to see the logic in buying a car for someone as antisocial as her. Said it would be a waste of green backs and he couldn’t afford to be frivolous. The memory snatched a long suffering sigh from her lungs. How the hell could he not? Her dad stayed changing area codes for the sake of business. As much as he got it in for his practice, he should’ve been able to purchase the whole damn dealership.

A card shoved under the windshield wiper nabbed her attention. As she yanked the envelope free of the wiper, she noticed her name scrawled across the front in elegant handwriting. The stationary alone appeared to cost more than her bike. Exhaling a lung full of air, she removed the thick sheet of paper. Which read…

_Miss Bennett,_

_Hannibal recovered your bicycle this morning from Wickery Bridge. Much to my dismay, Barnibus, my transportation engineer determined your push-bike is damaged beyond repair. So I took the liberty of purchasing you a more enduring vehicle. I also would like to extend an invitation to dinner at my home this evening. There are several details regarding the Bennett lineage your grandmother never had the opportunity to discuss with you. Details which urgently requires your review. We dine at eight, Hannibal will be around to collect you at seven. Until next we meet._

_Your Ever Doting Benefactress,_

_E. Mikaelson_

At the bottom of the envelope, Bonnie found a key attached to a silver key chain which read Bennett. Her jaw dropped. Had Mrs. Mikaelson lost her damn mind? She couldn’t accept a car from her. Rudy would give birth to a set of twins. Shaking her head, she hurried around to the driver side of the vehicle and climbed in.

The drive to Mikaelson House took less than fifteen minutes. During which, the tires practically made love to the asphalt. Floating on air wouldn’t even compare to what it felt like to drive such a shiny little beauty. There’s no denying it, she loved the fucking car! But she couldn’t keep the damn thing. Could she? No, she could not! Reluctantly, she slid out of the driver’s seat as she attempted to strengthen her resolve.

When she stood in front of the ornate double doors she raised her hand, but before she could press the buzzer the doors swung open. Kol stood on the other side wearing his signature narrowed eyed smirk and once again he made a sopping wet mess of the crotch of her underwear. His smirk bloomed into a tiny grin.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She questioned, while trying to see around him.

“Am I wrong to assume I live here?” He quirked a brow as he clasped his hands behind his back.

Hot salty water seeped from the pores at the very center of her back. For some silly ass reason, his indulging restraint irritated her, while at the same time, it incited her nipples to strain against the cotton lining of her bra.

“Um…” she swallowed, and then took a step back. “Aren’t you supposed to be in fifth period right now?”

He stepped forward. “What can I say? I misplaced my motivation to remain.” He continued his stroll forward until he towered over her.

“Is R-reb-bekah here too?” She could’ve kicked herself in the ass for stuttering. He already knew he affected her on some level. Butchering the English language on his behalf was over kill.

Kol’s head swung from side to side, but his narrowed pleased gaze remained fastened on her face. “Rebekah has chosen to be a willing participant in all of the rituals performed by the modern day youths.”

“And I suppose, you like to think yourself to be above it all, huh?” She held his predatory stare determined not tuck tail and run. “A regular Sebastian Valmont reboot whose purpose for the time being is to soil the fluffy white fur of the innocent little Bonnie. News fucking flash, Mikaelson. I’m far from innocent and I’m damn sure not white.” She move forward, and he began to back track his steps as she continued giving him the business. “So go find yourself another naïve country dumb girl to corrupt, because all you’re doing now is wasting your sermon on the converted.”

The front door slammed shut behind her. The loud clap scared the brakes off of her and she nearly dropped to hit the floor. Until she noticed she stood in the middle of the grand foyer with her breast pressed firmly to Kol’s chest. Pulsing jolts assaulted her frame from hair roots to toenails. Her hands twitched uncontrollably at her sides. Her lips tingled and her skin burned as if it had been licked by ten thousand flames. Not to mention, she’d never recalled her mouth feeling so dry. Damn, the Mikaelsons hadn’t been in residence a full twenty four hours and they’d somehow already managed to turn her into a thirst buster!

Despite the tilted predicament of her physical state, her mental capacity thrived. Truth be sold, her spidey senses were doing the damn fool. She’d gone and thoroughly fucked herself. In leaning over the hearth to admire the inviting glow of the fire, she had unwittingly fallen victim to the blaze.

“You know, Pierre Choderlos de Laclos did in indeed base the ever disreputable Vicomte de Valmont on my very daring nature,” he said as he dragged the pad of his index finger down her arm. “However, had Choderlos de Laclos really done my true character justice those fictitious correspondences would’ve never known the warmth of candle light, darling.”

“I’m confused.” She shook her head as she stared at him with stretched wide eyes. “I don’t know whether you’re eccentric or just completely insane.”

His fingers interlaced with hers. “Do you dare to fall a little further into me in pursuit of an answer?”

“Are you saying to know you is to fall for you?” Her question left her lips as a breathy whisper.

“I’m saying,” the melodic lilt in his voice softened to a soothing timbre. “Once you’re truly familiar with whom I am, you’ll fall to your knees and worship me with the sodding devoutness of a fanatic.”

An image of her on her knees before him putting in exceptional mouth and lip service decimated her brain. She blinked to blot away the vision, but her mind’s eye refused to allow her to see anything other than his enthralling features stretched and locked in a pleasure enflamed expression. Even as the veins moved sluggishly under his blood red eyes and a hint of fang peeped just beneath his upper lip, he still remained the most beautiful monster she’d ever seen.

Bonnie swayed from side to side. She placed her free hand on Kol’s chest to steady herself. The contact only made her feel even more off balanced. What the unholy fuck was wrong with her? Ever since the previous night, things she’d normally kept in pocket now spun wild and free out of her control.

She no longer held any power over her zone. Her body did whatever the hell it wanted. Fantasies of the Mikaelson siblings consumed her brain. She’d even found herself questioning her sexuality. Fucking Rebekah! Sexy, blond, and statuesque Rebekah…the fuck! Oh yeah, her issues were real.

“Is your mother home?” She needed to have a serious conversation with Esther, and then put all things Mikaelson in her rearview.

“A thousand apologies, darling.” He placed a hand on the small of her back, before drawing her lower half closer to his. The nice sized bulge in his jeans forced her breath to catch. “Mother and my dullard of a brother are out calling on the influential residents of Mystic Falls. They won’t return until later this evening.”

“Well, I’d better go,” she said, moving to back out of his grasp.

His grip on her hand tightened even as his palm slipped from the dip in lower back. “Rubbish, you’ve only just arrived. Moreover, there’s something you really must see before you take your leave.”

Without giving her a chance to refuse, he took advantage of their clasped hands and tugged her deeper into the mansion. They walked for several minutes until reaching a pale yellow room. Inside, he guided her through a set of cut glass doors that led outside to the back of the estate. She gasped. A palatial pool dominated at least three and a half acres of the area. The lagoon styled theme featured a grotto about an acre away from the house. And as much as she craned her neck to see inside, the foamy water fall which poured over the cave like opening concealed the contents of the enclosure from view.

“Worry not, your exquisiteness,” Kol said, casting a glance at her over his shoulder. “We’ll have ample opportunity to explore every clandestine location this estate has to offer. You have my word.”

Her eyes rolled as she wondered exactly how many times he’d ever heard the word no in his life. “Where are you taking me, Kol?”

“Patience, darling. It’s not much farther now,” he said, while guiding her around the grotto towards one of three over water bungalows.

He skillfully maneuvered her over the stone and planked bridge that led into the Maldives inspired pool house. Well damn! What a silly Bonnie she’d turned out to be. She’d happily hopped into a trap of Kol Mikaelson’s making. Now there she stood in the center of a bungalow cloaked in shadows waiting for whatever he deemed fit to come next. A moment later a soft glow from the track lighting flooded the inside of the hut.

“So what did you have to show me?” She asked, her gaze never straying from the queen sized mattress laying on a solid cherry wood platform.

Kol placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her in the opposite direction of the bed. The sight which greeted her motivated a crap ton of oxygen to invade her lungs. She stumbled and fell back into the youngest Mikaelson son.

“Well, what do you think of my surprise, darling? Assure me it’s exactly what you desired.”

“ _Kol…_ ”

Her voice trailed off, because she didn’t know what the hell to say. What could one say about two lingerie clad women tongue kissing on a chaise lounge in a corner of the room? Especially, when they both appeared absolutely oblivious of their surroundings. She tried to turn around to give them at least the illusion of privacy, but Kol held her in place.

“Attend Celeste and Amerie, Bonnie,” he whispered next to her ear. “They’ve cast aside their midday duties to execute this highly stimulating demonstration for you. Least you can do is observe.”

He placed his hands on her hips as he nipped at her earlobe. “Hmm…,” she moaned.

Slowly, his hands slid up her hips to grip her waist. “Bonnie, do you see how Amerie responds to the softness of Celeste’s lips? The breathy sound Amerie makes when Celeste relinquishes her mouth in favor of dusting open mouth kisses over the column of her neck. Ah, and what of her hands,” he murmured before pressing a kiss behind her ear.

A gasp pushed itself free of her mouth as one of his hands stroked her lower abdomen. “Kol…” She called his name with the full intention of telling him to stop, but she was too caught up in her voyeurism to put any actual sincerity behind the word.

When Amerie straddled Celeste’s lap and slowly began to grind, Celeste’s low throaty groan motivated Bonnie to squeeze her thighs together and slowly sway her hips from side to side in hopes of easing the aching throb building within the center of her core.

Kol’s right hand slid up her stomach to palm her left breast. He applied pressure to her cotton encased nipple with the pad of his thumb. “Have a look at the expression of rapture on Amerie’s face. How do you think it feels to her when she grinds her crotch into Celeste’s entrancing undercarriage?” Bonnie’s eyes rolled backwards as she continued to wind her hips, desperate to relieve the pounding. “Do you imagine it feels as good to her as when Bekah did the same to you?” The thought of her denied orgasm brought hot tears to her eyes.

His left hand slid down her lower abdomen until his thumb rested on the button of her jeans. Gently, he nudged her head to the side. When she’d bared her neck to him, he began nursing the exposed skin at her throat. He paused every so often to nip at the over sensitized area until her moans bounced off the walls of the bungalow and serenaded them in surround sound.

Celeste yanked Amerie’s breast free of the lace bra. The sight of Celeste’s pointy pink tongue teasing Amerie’s dusky taut nipple morphed her longing moans into mournful whimpers. “Darling, lend me your consent and I’ll pay homage to each of your breasts in painstaking detail.”

Before she could consider his offer, his hand slid into her underwear. She opened her mouth to protest, but snapped it shut again when his finger found the magical button nestled between her pop rocker’s lips. The pleasure jolt that ripped through her body damn near tore in two. Kol lifted her in his arms, and then tossed her onto the bed. She bounced once before she sank into the downy mattress.

He towered over her from the side of the bed. His voracious stare travelled over every inch of her. On conclusion of his evaluation, he raised his hand and made a circular gesture with his finger. “Rotate your body until you achieve the ideal angle to resume watching Celeste and Amerie, darling.”

“I’d rather watch you…”

She propped herself on her elbows to lose herself in his chocolate browns. After a moment of visually eye fucking him, she tossed her head in the direction of the now bare assed females. Amerie had her head buried between her lover’s thighs, while Celeste murmured nonstop in French. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as fingers found the nipple Kol had so mercilessly teased.

“I’d rather watch you doing that to me,” she managed to force out on the heels of a raspy sigh.

Dark veins writhed beneath his lower lids, reminding her of the vision she’d seen earlier. She blinked, sure her eyes and lust had played her. It was merely her subconscious way of granting her darkest desires. To be taken down fast and hard by a beautiful ruthless monster. The beat of her heart began to imitate the drumline from Destiny’s Child, _Lose my Breath_.

“Remove your clothing,” he said as he challenged her with that face, those eyes, and a zipper full of major wood. Challenged accepted. She snatched her shirt over her head, and then shifted her hips to wiggle out of her jeans.

He leaned forward to place his hands on hers. Leaning even further into her, he angled his mouth next to her ear. “Completely disrobe.” His finger slid under her bra strap. “There should never be anything,” he pressed an open mouth kiss to her shoulder, “or anyone between you and I.” He moved his hands around to finger the clasp at her back. “May I, darling?”

“Please.” Her head bobbed. “Get me the fuck out of this thing.”

“Hmm.” He leaned away to consider her expression with penetrating eyes that seared. “I count the seconds until you allow me the privilege of savoring your depraved tongue.” Clever nimble fingers unclasped her bra. “If the explicit succulent muscle is truly as wicked as I deduce it to be, then I’ll be entirely besotted with the sharp little thing by the time we’re forced to part.”  

She laughed. More at herself than him. How was this even happening between them? The word easy didn’t apply to her. Not emotionally, physically, and damn sure not sexually. People who knew her would no doubt describe her as a mess of contradicting complexities. Yet, there she sat in nothing but her bra and a pair of jeans impatiently waiting to be consumed and eventually invaded by Kol Mikaelson of all people. She didn’t even like conceited guys. Yet, there she kicked it with the youngest Mikaelson son who, coincidently, had self-centeredness down to a fucking science.

Bonnie’s lips ensnared his. He hummed his surprise at her forwardness, but being an expert on all things freak nasty he still stuck the landing by sliding his tongue into her mouth. In slow deliberate strokes the soft flesh tangled with hers as his hands worked to move the straps of her bra down her arms. Once the undergarment hit the floor, he released her mouth to press wet kisses down her neck and over her chest until he was face to nipples with her breasts. He grasped both of them in the palms of each of his hands, and then squeezed. She mewled. The contrast of his cool palm on her searing skin snatched salt water from her eyes.

Good, gawd! She had to own this man! She grabbed a fist full of his silky brown hair and tried to bring his face—but more importantly his mouth—closer to her breasts. He, however, refused to budge and she nearly clawed gouges into his scalp for his defiance.

Frustration moved her to pull his hair. Hard. He didn’t even fucking flinch! “ _Kol_ …” Her plea slid from her lips wrapped in a whine.

As the tiny veins continued to writhe under the skin beneath his eyes, her pop rocker drooled its approval.

“Speak my name again,” he demanded before grazing a nipple with the tip of his tongue.

“Kol, _please_ ,” she squeaked.

An unrepentant smirk desecrated his mouth. He then squeezed her breasts together and began tonguing each of her nipples. That’s when the babbling started. She wasn’t sure if she spoke an actual language or gibberish. Truth was, she didn’t fucking care. His mouth, eyes, and hands, had a choke hold on her mental.

After he’d licked, sucked, and nibbled her nipples into two aching rigid bits, he released his hold on her breasts. Ignoring her whimpered pleas, he straightened from his crouch. His heated stare travelled over her until he reached her feet. Faster than her damn eyes could move, Kol took hold of the hem on her pants and snatched her jeans from her body in a single move. He’d even managed to snag her Fruit of the Looms’ tightey whiteys.

Dropping the jeans and underwear on the floor, his stare moved to claim possession of her bare naked body. With a slightly wrinkled brow, pursed lips, and an expression made for the sole purpose of coaxing reluctant consent, he gazed down at her.

After several moments of deliberation he spoke, “You’ll require a safe word. Do you have a preference?”

“How about stop?” She asked, beginning to feel just a little self-conscience.

“How about not,” He responded in a tone tinged with condescension.

She grabbed the edge of the duvet, and then pulled the suede material over her stark naked frame. “Why not? It’s simple enough. And why the hell do I need a safe word if you don’t? Yeah, I may be small but I’m packed tight and I can definitely bring the pain if the situation calls for a vicious take down.”

The many freaky downloaders on the fifty-eleven online porn sites had educated her well on how to talk the talk even if she hadn’t necessarily walked it out yet.

“Ha,” he released a bemused chuckle, “select another.”

She scoffed, and then her eyes narrowed to slits. “How about wait or even better…not tonight?”

“Darling, you’re too extraordinary to suffer with such an obscene lack of imagination.” He reached down and wrapped a hand around her ankle. With a tug he snatched her to the edge of the mattress, causing her to leave the cover of the duvet behind. “Stop, wait, no, don’t…you’ll be bellowing that twaddle quite frequently throughout the duration of our time together. Furthermore, those are the infantile terms I tend to ignore. But worry not, I’m well practiced in assigning words of safety.”

“Wait, what-,”

He licked the pad of his thumb, and then slid the digit between the lips of her pop rocker. When his finger connected with her pearl she almost swallowed her tongue. He swung a scrutinizing stare to the ceiling. As he murmured random words to himself, he continued to manipulate her magical little button. Nonsense spilled from her mouth the closer she came to reaching the peak of the pressure building inside of her.

Two respiration cycles before her fragmenting world shattered into jagged shards, Kol’s eyes flared, and his thumb stopped moving. “Ah, I have it, darling.”

His decadent brown stare reclaimed hers. Once he had her drowning is those bottomless depths, he shoved two fingers inside of her. Pain tore the mounting pleasure spasms from her grasp.

 _“Kol!”_ She hissed _._

“Nulla misericordia,” he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. “Those are the words you’ll speak when my…appetites threaten to pilfer air from your lungs.”

“Nulla whaaa,” His fingers began to move in and out of her in long even strokes. “Ooh, Kol…ooh, shi-iiidddd.” Once again, when she’d almost reached the end of her suffering, he curved her and withdrew his fingers.

“Many apologies, but I fear I’m inappropriately overdressed.” In a blink of an eye Kol removed his clothes. Seriously, she blinked and he stood before her wearing nothing but skin.

What the unholy fuckery? “How’d you…”

“Shh.” He settled himself in the space between her open thighs, and then until the hard length of his wrist (because she knew like hell it wasn’t his penis) slipped between the lips of her pop rocker. “Well isn’t Nik the lucky bastard,” he grunted under his breath.

“Who’s, Nik?” She whispered

“A living and breathing parody of regality who’s not a compelling enough distraction to interrupt the seeking of our carnal pleasure.” He plunged his tongue in her mouth, moving it in deep sweeping motions as he rocked his hips against hers.

His good boy slid over her slit to connect with her clit. She moaned into his mouth and he deepened the kiss. For several minutes he plundered her mouth, while he tweaked her nipples between his fingers. In full fledge savage mode, he plunged the bell head of his rod against her pop rocker.

A multitude of images wam-bammed her mind. Visions of them in various sexual positions flooded her thoughts until her head swam. Something stirred within the deepest darkest parts of her. The thrumming coiled energy slowly unwound itself. Dark currents pulsed throughout her body to mingle with the sensual pressure building within the walls of her core and lower abdomen. Her entire frame vibrated. Fuck, he would explode her ass yet! Afraid she’d suffocate, she broke the kiss. Something sharp sliced her bottom lip when she tore her mouth from his.

Kol growled. More hot liquid gushed from her slit. The speed of his thrusts increased. Moans and whimpers fell from her mouth without even a smidgen of shame. A tangled in a mess of indiscernible sound. What the hell was her beautiful monster doing to her? She opened her eyes to visually devour him. The veins in his face still squirmed just beneath the surface of his skin, but now they also affected his eyes. His irises damn near drowned in a pools of red. Even unmasked as a demon, he still took her breath away.

She reached up to run the pads of her thumbs over his upper cheeks. He turned his face into her touch and licked the palm of her hand. Spasms attacked the walls of her core as she huffed and puffed her way to a major blow out. Her fingernails raked layers from his back even as she tumbled a little further into him.

He leaned down and drew his tongue over her oozing bottom lip. “Sweetness, you’re unquestionably luscious. I’m bloody tempted to drain you.”

“What are you?” She whispered, attempting to stave off the overwhelming erotic force that threatened to blow her mind apart.

Before she allowed herself to die by an end of his making, she wanted to know him. No, scratch that, she needed to know the thing she’d been compelled to want…to need.

“Who would you have me be, darling?” He slowly descended her body pressing cool open mouthed kisses along the way. “Your possessor…instructor…ruler…your lover. In what role would you cast me?” When he reached her pop rocker, he grabbed one of her thighs and placed it over his shoulder, while jacking the other up so far her knee touch her waist.

“Who you are is not what I mean, but I think you already know-,”

His mouth covered her pop rocker and a tenth of a second later his tongue slid over her clit. The mammoth of all orgasms slashed her spidey senses to shreds. Her body popped and locked so hard it threatened to dislodge her joints from their sockets. Tiny pleas shot from her lips. Yet, none were the safe word she needed to put an end to her exquisite misery.

The exact moment she knew she couldn’t take another wave of pleasure, he shoved his index and middle finger inside of her. Her core contracted and released around his fingers as the second orgasm descended on her. She screamed, while attempting to pull her middle from Kol’s punishing tongue and devious fingers. The nails on his free hand punctured her hips, determined to keep her in place.

Bonnie’s mind spun as she passed beyond her threshold for pleasure. She now writhed in the realm of, _just put me out of my fucking ecstasy._ Almost as if Kol had heard her silent plea, he pulled his mouth from her convulsing center. Her tortured senses gave birth to a sigh and just when her instincts perceived the possibility of survival, he turned rabid. In all of his monstrous glory he perforated her femoral artery with a set of fully extended…fangs? What the fuck? Her vision tunneled. The sight of Kol gnawing happily on her thigh dwindled until nothing remained but blackness and death inspired silence.                                                          

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Bennett Fandom! Here goes another one. Let me first thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. The motivation y’all give is real. The proof is in the updates. This is like the third one in three days. SMFH! Francesca won’t let me sleep (Pay no attention to the chick chained to her keyboard)! And as for pairing goes—drumroll please…the, I’s have it! Harem fic it is! So get ready for sweet lemony goodness x five! Well I’ma slide to the left to let the disclaimer start his denying and disavowing. Hopefully, I’ll see you guys on the other side. Alright, Disclaimer. I think they ready…
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Rebekah breasts heaved in relief upon discovering the Bennett witch in the pool quarters. Her relief fled however when the blended scent of blood, sex, and Bonnie’s intoxicating arousal violated her olfactory senses. _Kol!_

“What the devil have you done, Kol?” She demanded before zipping to the bed. The blended fragrance strengthened and coated her tongue when she towered over them.

Kol reclined on a mountain of pillows with his eyes closed while her lovely dove rested upon his bare chest. He wore a peeving Cheshire grin as his fingers stroked the length of the witch’s naked spine. If he’d gone and ruined the Bennett Witch he’d discover himself daggered and languishing in his coffin indefinitely. Their mother and Niklaus would never forgive him for such abandoned recklessness.

“Relax, Bekah,” he said without opening his eyes. “I merely offered the little witch stimulation without the benefit of penetration. I cavorted well in the parameters of proper preparation etiquette.”

“And what of the glass then?” She questioned as she sent several pointed glares to the jagged shards protruding from the window frames, and the fragmented pieces littering the floor.

“Nothing more than a manifestation of the little witch’s sorcery.” A tiny smirk ensnared his thin lips. His beady little eyes opened to regard her. “She’s spectacular, sister. I’m doubtful she even noticed her display of magic. Her powers are like none other I’ve ever tasted.”

_Was he insane?!_ At this rate he wouldn’t be long for his coffin. Nik would surely dagger the bloody fool for this indiscretion. “It is one thing to slip a few drops of your blood into her tea, but a blood exchange?” His idiocy astounded. “Bloodletting the Bennett Witch is not included in the witch’s instruction, Kol. You’re more than fully aware of the ramifications an external blood bond will have on the mating bond forged between her and Nik at the conclusion of the quickening.”

“Why are you here, Rebekah?” He dropped a kiss on the sleeping dove’s brow, before turning to penetrate her skull with a well-aimed narrowed-eyed glare. “I fear the witch is spent from our rather…rigorous encounter. Any further tutelage you may desire to convey to Bonnie this eve will not be well received. In verity-,”

Her eyes rolled until they met the back of her head. “Oh shut it, Kol! Mother sent me to collect Bonnie. Elijah’s arrived and she requests we dine as a family afore she reveals the witch’s heritage to her. Now take your leave so that I may ready her for our noble brother’s ever critical perusal,” she said as she reached down to brush away a few wavy tendrils from the witch’s flawless face.

Damn Kol and his insatiable appetites. She’d planned to seduce her lovely little dove at the conclusion of the evening. Now she’d have to deny her cravings for yet another day.

                                                          

* * *

 

“How did you fare in Dubai, my son?” Esther inquired, before taking a sip from her dainty Floral Eden tea cup.

She sat across from Elijah Mikaelson upon a wingchair fashioned in nineteenth century England. The understated but elegant black cocktail dress she donned hugged her from shoulders to mid-calf. As always she embodied the epitome of style and sophistication.

He presented her with a small smile as he crossed a leg over the other. “Sweltering and decadent. The diversions there however, were quite memorable.”

“I’m pleased the city provided you with a modest amount of amusement,” she returned his smile with a genuinely welcoming one of her own. She clapped her hands together. “Now, what of Niklaus. Did he send word?”

“Greta and he are currently debasing the French Riviera,” he informed.

_“Greta!”_ his mother expressed as if someone had shoved something rather distasteful into her mouth.

He inclined his head to concur with her sentiments. Greta Martin was a powerful witch to be sure, but her disposition left a great deal to be desired. “Niklaus requested I assure everyone that he’ll attend us all when conflicting circumstances permit.”

“Conflicting circumstances?!” Esther seethed as she replaced the cup and saucer on the tea table. “Why, what circumstance could take priority over Bonnie’s quickening?” Within moments following, her eyes narrowed. “Greta Martin, indeed! It’s her influence, I tell you. She’s convinced your brother to forego the quickening in favor of unraveling the sun and moon curse by utilizing the blood of the human doppelganger.” She gripped the arms of the chair. “Well it won’t work! At least not in the way he assumes. Though his hybrid side will in fact be unbound, his sorcery will forever be lost to him. Doppelganger blood is quite faulty that way. The Martin witch will ruin us all with her constant interfering and advising.”

“Nik would never adhere to such advisement,” Kol said. He entered the parlor by way of the patio doors. “My fanatical brother is a great many of things. Ingenuous, however, isn’t among them.”

Elijah’s scrutinizing gaze glided over his baby brother. The little wretch donned a graphic oil pattern dinner jacket which appeared to be a Tom Ford’s original. Well done. He’d chosen his attire well, which was highly suspicious within itself. Kol never took care with his wardrobe. He believed himself to be Nature’s undying gift to needle and thread. His deviation from his usual devil may care conduct on all things, trends and styles, guided Elijah to the belief his younger sibling’s newly discovered interest in fashion was for the sole benefit of impressing the Bennett witch.  

Elijah returned his gaze to their mother. “Niklaus only wishes to increase his odds of success.”

“And what of us?” Kol demanded. “Are we to remain without the use of our magic simply because Nik grows weary? If so, then dagger me now. For what’s the sodding point of eternity if a fundamental part of yourself has already perished?”

Ignoring his younger sibling’s impromptu tantrum, he continued. “He’s not certain the Bennett you’ve discovered is in verity the Bennett Witch foretold in the prophecy.”

Esther scoffed, before allowing her eyes to roll. His elder brother Finn placed a calming hand on their mother’s shoulder. “Explain,” he said in the same jaded tone he’d employed for over a thousand years.

“Throughout his and Greta’s travels, they’ve met another Bennet Witch by the name of Lucille Bennett. Her sorcery is unmatched or so they claim,” he answered, while staring down his nose at Finn’s plain black shirt and trousers. Really, it was as if he actively chose not to try.

“Rubbish,” Kol murmured from his place at the wet bar. “And Nik fancies saying I’m ruled by my passions. Yet, his cock leads him astray of a design which has thrived well over a thousand years in the making.”

His baby brother regained his interest. Upon second notice the hint of vanilla, coconuts, and a scrumptiously magical essence teased his nostrils. Well, well, it appeared Kol intended to play the game with his cards pressed covetously to his breast. Hmm. Now he understood his younger sibling’s improvised performance earlier that day. Him going to unwarranted lengths to place the human yet very uninspiring doppelganger in his path. If he wasn’t interested in the prospective Bennett Witch before he was now indescribably intrigued.

“Niklaus and his blast it loopholes,” Finn muttered to himself.

“What of Nik and his blast it loopholes?” Rebekah questioned as she drifted into the parlor hand in hand with the most palatable morsel he’d ever had the fortune to cast his gaze upon.

The enchanting sorceress stumbled into his eternity as a vision in an emerald green and ivory skater dress. The verdant color in the garment enhanced the luxuriant jewel tone in her eyes. The ivory laid bare the aureate undertone of her golden bronzed complexion. She was disconcertingly beautiful to be sure, but the enthralling lure of her magical essence wafting from her person, is what held him captive. The mystical sorcery enfolded itself around him, while uttering vows of debauched nights filled with untold pleasures. He came to his feet. His stare never wandering from the one thing he could very well come to value more than his continued survival.

“Miss Bennett,” His mother said, her expression pleased and knowing.

Their mother beckoned for Rebekah, and the enchanting sorceress to come closer. His baby sister guided the staggering witch over to them. Finn rounded the wingchair to bask in Miss Bennett’s loveliness as she passed. While Kol drifted from the wet bar as if he were a block of iron caught in the crosshairs of a magnetic force. His rapacious stare unblinking as he beheld the intriguing witch within his sights.

Unfortunately, Miss Bennett appeared to be just as aware of his younger brother. In truth, she seemed to be downright mesmerized by him even as she clung to Rebekah’s hand and spared Finn doting glances every so often.

“Please call me Bonnie,” Miss Bennett’s voice intensified his over stimulated senses. She flicked a more than curious glance his way before retraining a beseeching stare on his mother. “Look, Mrs. Mikaelson. There’s no way I can accept a car from you. It’s too-,”

“Nonsense, Bonnie. The automobile belongs to you and I won’t hear anything otherwise to the contrary.” His mother gave her a dismissive wave. “Now, I’d like to introduce my son Elijah. Elijah this is Bonnie Bennett.”

He took possession of her free hand, before bowing and brushing his mouth against her palm. Whips of pulsing energy pricked the surface of his lips. In turn, every nerve in his face short circuited and expired. Shock stretched his eyes to an unrealistic size as clarity feasted on his confusion. He couldn’t feel his fucking face! Soon after, however, every muscle dedicated to manipulating his features raptured, giving birth to the very first facial orgasm. He groaned as he struggled not to misplace his seed in the delicate fabric of his trousers.

Excitement trounced him and filched away his control. Without expressed consent on his part, his fangs perforated his gums and nicked the soft skin of Miss Bennett’s palm. A fetching deep crimson red pooled within the jagged edges of the laceration.

“Son of a _bitch_!” Miss Bennett snatched her hand from his grasp. The Waterford crystal table lamp exploded several feet to his right. Briefly, showering the room in rainbow arcs.

A growl thundered from Kol’s chest as he closed the distance between him and the based tongue Miss Bennett. Deceptively, he pressed kisses in her palm while skewering him with a truly homicidal scowl. Finn stood beside their mother settling him with disdainful glares, while Esther appeared to be drowning in mortification. Rebekah, however, cackled like a deranged loon.

“My apologies, Miss Bennett. It appears my nails are sharper than my manicurist assured,” he murmured some nonsense quite undone by his infantile actions.

“Nails?” She scoffed, and then glared at him in the way and intellect would regard a fool. “You bit me, asshole! What the hell is it with you Mikaelsons?”

Hannibal wandered into the parlor employing the pace of snail. “Supper is served, Lady Mikaelson. Now if all would be so good as to follow me to the dining area.”

“How about we give you a bloody advantage and follow within fifteen to twenty minutes, old boy?” Rebekah said. Her tone rather condescending.

Hannibal inclined his silver haired head. “As you wish, Lady Mikaelson.”

“Well now, then,” Rebekah said, clapping her hands together once Hannibal exited the parlor a full five minutes later. “How about we have drink while you enlighten Bonnie on her lineage and all things supernatural which lurks in the shadows?”

                                                                 

* * *

 

“So what you’re saying is, I come from a super long line of witches,” Bonnie wide unassuming eyes touched upon every Mikaelson in the parlor.

Esther’s head bobbed. “The very first line of magical witches. Your lineage goes back thousands of years,” she felt the need to add.

“It’s practically prehistoric, Dove,” Rebekah said before guzzling down more of his gin and tonic.

“A very old line of witches,” Bonnie repeated, slowly nodding as she raised an index finger. “And not only is there such a thing as magical witches, but vampires exist as well. Which…you all are?”

“I, myself, am also a witch,” Esther corrected as concern poured from her eyes, “My children however, are vampires,”

“Original vampires, darling. For we are the first of our kind,” Kol interjected, stroking the palm of her injured hand that now barely even had a scar.

The pricks of energy penetrating her hand dehydrated her entire oral cavity. She wanted more than anything to yank her appendage from his grasp, but he felt fucking amazing. Truth be sold, being sandwiched between he and Rebekah on the love seat slung her senses into sensory overload. No matter how crazy she thought them to be. But did she really think them crazy? Especially, after her afternoon with Kol?

In attempts to relieve the dryness in her mouth she swallowed. Her efforts only triggered a bout of dry heaves. Finn kneeled before her and pressed a cold bottle of water into her free hand. She offered him slight nod accompanied with a tiny grimace that substituted as smile, before opening the bottle and downing half of its content.

“Bonnie, are you alright?” When Bonnie refused to say anything or even to tear her gaze from the bottled water, she heard Esther sigh. “I fear we’ve overwhelmed you. We should give you an opportunity to recover. Come, let’s all attend dinner. Our discussion can be resumed at the conclusion of the evening.”

Esther’s words snatched her out of her thoughts. Eating dinner with the Mikaelson’s after everything they’d told her was a big motherfucking no go! They were all either insane or worse telling the truth. And at that moment she couldn’t face their crazy or their truth.

She squirmed her way free of Rebekah and Kol to stand. “Um, I can’t…” Swinging her head from side to side, she raised her hands and backed away. “Not right now. I need time to process…” Her gaze darted about the room. “…all of this.”

“But, Miss Bennett, there’s more. There’s a prophecy-,” Finn began.

She raised the injured hand to slow his roll. “I don’t give a fuck!” When his face fell guilt kicked holes in her mounting agitation. “Shit, Finn. I’m sorry, but you have to understand how all of this sounds to me.”

Without two second thoughts brushing together in her head, she strolled over to the eldest Mikaelson sibling and placed a hand to his face. The intense pulses which surged between his cheek and her palm weakened her all the way down to her ankles. His eyes slipped closed as he reached up to wrap her wrist in a loose grip. He swallowed and the Adam’s apple in his throat moved up and down. Gawd, how she wanted to twist herself around this man. No…this vampire. She blinked.

All her issues with the Mikaelson clan tumbled forth and buried her ass. She yanked her hand from his face, dislodging her wrist from his grasp in the process. How the hell was this her life right now? She kicked off the emerald stilettos Rebekah had coerced her into, and then spun on her heel to race toward the door leading out to the main hallway. Before she could cross the threshold, Kol appeared in front of her. Almost as if he’d stepped out of thin air.

“Unholy, hell!” She sputtered.

“Step aside, Kol,” Elijah said in a relaxed tone which thinly veiled the iron forged in his words.

Kol unmoved by Elijah’s command continued to hold the floor down in front of her. He towered over her. Watching her with the same unflinching stare that made her forget everything. Including her name. Yeah, this Mikaelson was the real challenge. Her pull to him was the strongest of them all. She fucking ached for him. The growing need she had of him had steadily begun to possess her. A smirk curved his mouth as if he had a front row seat to every thought going pound for pound in her head. Her gaze narrowed. But more than she needed him or them, she needed space to clear it all out. She required clarity more than she needed the Mikaelson’s.

A phrase materialized in her mind’s eye. “Nulla misericordia.”

Surprise snatched his narrowed gaze wide, before his signature taunting expression slid back into place. He then stepped to the side, giving her the space and opportunity she craved to get the hell out of there.

                                                        

* * *

 

It took Bonnie twenty minutes to arrive home. Since she refused to take the car Esther gave her, she decided to walk. With all of the supposed animal attacks going on in Mystic Falls lately it might not have been the smartest idea, but what was she going to do? Wait an hour and a half for Hannibal to pull the car around? Nope. The longer she remained at Mikaelson House the more her resolve to leave melted away. So she marched over five and half miles home bare foot.

By the time she reached her front door, her feet were busted to hell and Stefan Salvatore lounged on the stair railing of her porch steps. Her eyes rolled on their own accord. Every piece and part of her was so over the dumb shit. She had zero tolerance for whatever bullshit he called himself going door to door selling.

“What the hell do you want?” She demanded as she ascended her porch steps on the tips of her toes, careful not to drive the glass further into the balls and arches of her feet. “If you’re here to tell me to stay away from the Gilbert’s then you’ve wasted your time _and_ mine.”

She reached under a white washed wooden rocking chair next to the door and removed the key taped under the seat. In her great escape she’d fucked around and forgot her house keys in the pocket of her jeans which still parlayed on the bungalow’s floor at the Mikaelson’s.

“It’s nothing personal, but Elena’s worried about Jeremy. He’s troubled.” His expressed concerns on Elena’s behalf provoked the corner of her upper lip to quirk in a sneer as she slid the key in the lock. “And the drugs you’re selling him isn’t helping matters. You know I thought your kind was better than this.”

“My kind?” Bonnie whirled around to face him.

“You know, servants of nature,” he said with hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans as he straight-faced the hell out of her. “Aren’t you supposed to maintain the balance?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but if I did…I’d tell you mushrooms and organic herb will level a crunk situation out real quick. Hence, maintaining the balance. And that—BTW—is only thing Jeremy Gilbert has ever received from me. Now get the hell off of my porch before I start to take all of this shit personally,” she said, before turning to push open the door.

Cold fingers gripped her elbow to stop her from entering the house. Visions of blood puddles and dismembered body parts flooded her mental. The icy hold of death embraced her. Apprehension twisted her insides and triggered her guts to rumble. Horrified screams perforated her ear drums, rendering her auditory senses useless. Stefan’s face flickered between human and bloodthirsty fiend. He was one of them...a vampire. Unholy shit! She yanked her arm from his grasp, and then stepped across the threshold into the safety of her house.

Once inside a gust of air and a flurry of movement whipped around her front porch. When the whirl of action gave birth to stillness, Stefan dangled from Kol’s fist.

He stared the shorter vampire directly in the eyes. The muscles in his face, locked in an expressionless mask. “You will never again come here to seek out Bonnie Bennett. From this day forth you’ll maintain your distance from the Bennett Witch.”

Stefan blinked, but managed to speak. “I will never come here or seek out the Bennett Witch again.”

“Also, your memories of 1920’s Chicago are now yours to claim, mate. Along with your newly acquired recollections, you’ll also have access to the affections and emotions which accompanies them.” He then placed a dazed Stefan back on his feet. “Now have your leave, _Ripper_.”

Bonnie watched with her mouth hanging wide as Stefan zipped off her porch at superhuman speed.

Kol then turned to regard her with the same narrowed eyed fiery stare she’d come to consider as hers. “Invite me in,” he said as he closed the distance between them.

“Come in, Kol,” she whispered without even an inhalation of hesitation.

The wicked smile which ensnared his lips and flashed his slightly extended fangs gave her pause. He reminded her of a stalking lion poised to take down a gazelle. No good could come of her issuing him an invitation into her home or life. However, when he stepped inside and his mouth found hers. Their tangling tongues transformed each of her doubts into reluctant certainties. In that moment she knew she had to have him. Hell, she had to have them all…even Elijah. Everything else she’d figure out in time.

                                                                

* * *

 

“So what of mother’s Bennett Witch, brother?” Niklaus Mikaelson enquired as he watched Lucy Bennett pleasure his paramour Greta Martin. The cleverest of smirks pursued his lips. And they said a Bennett Witch would never bow before another. “Is she as exquisite as my spies and our siblings claim?” When a ripple of ecstasy crossed Greta’s lovely features, he stroked his cock.

“She’s indescribable. There are no words which can communicate the allure of her beauty or the intoxicating draw of her magic.” A sigh saturated with undiluted yearning hissed from Elijah’s end of the line.

His elder brother’s reaction gave him pause. Elijah never postured upon romantic notions outside the preparation of the perspective Bennett Witch or an appearance of another human doppelganger. Such displays of longing was uncharacteristic of him. His scrutiny drifted to the powerful witch plundering his Greta’s charms. The magic she exuded compelled each strand of fine hair on his body to stand. Their attraction cavorted along the boundaries of magnetic. Truth be professed, Greta, Lucy, and he had formed quite the formidable triad.

“Well consider yourself liberated to pluck the delightfully untouched flower,” he said, while thrusting upward into his palm. His eyes slipped closed as a spasm of pleasure radiated through his lower abdomen and resonated within his knackers. “I’m beyond content in my current predicament.”

“So you intend to form a bond with the Bennett descendant in your custody. Are you certain it’s within the witch’s capability to unbind and reunite all three of your supernatural processes, Niklaus?” Elijah questioned in a tone edged with cynicism.

“Quite certain, brother,” his grip tightened around his cock as he ran the pad of his thumb over the seeping bell head. A trivial shudder undulated throughout him. Greta blew him a kiss as she tangled her fingers in the Bennett Witch’s hair. He arched a brow in promise. “Yet, you think me foolish because of my judgement.”

“Not foolish,” Elijah’s tone became measured, “Unwise perhaps. I strongly urge before you arrive at any conclusions on the matter, you become aquainted with Miss Bonnie Bennet of Mystic Falls. She’s truly…breathtaking.”

“Breathtaking? Try appetizing, brother,” Rebekah chortled in the background. “Elijah blundered it all to—bloody—hell by dropping fang when he endeavored to press a kiss into her palm. He frightened my lovely dove senseless, Nik.”

Niklaus’ hand stilled around his engorged manhood. His elder brother had the discipline of a celibate Tibetan monk when called to compare to the control he held over his vampire faculties. If their Bennett had the power to sever Elijah from his ever enduring restraint, then he’d do well to make the little witch’s acquaintance.

“Inform mother that I’ll attend her in Mystic Falls in a fortnight.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What it do, Bennett Fandom? Sorry it took me sooo long to update (A whole 24 plus hours). Francesca and I had a disagreement about an edit, but we’re all good now. Edit posted, crisis averted. Any whooo…Thanks to everyone for the follows, favorites, and reviews. It’s nice to see our crazy is catching, but enough of the cray talk. Disclaimer is making a go for the mic and he’s legit got crazy eyes. So without further ado…
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Kol discerned every expression which skittered across the tiny seductress’ face as she claimed her end for the third time that eve. He pressed kisses to her inner thighs as her moans settled to faint whimpers.

Her stamina staggered him. Witches from the Bennett line in centuries gone by had often pled exhaustion after a single encounter. Bonnie’s sexual appetites, however, spun in the realm of insatiable. His John Thomas dipped and bowed for an opportunity to tame her avid wild flower.

“Will doing this,” she lowered her eyes to his mouth before recapturing his gaze, “with you make me a vampire?”

“Would you like to be a vampire, darling?” He inched up her body dropping chaste kisses as he ascended.

She cradled his face in the palms of her hands when he attempted to ensnare her lips. “I don’t know. Do you sparkle?”

He snorted. “Surely you jest.”

“You snatched the words right out of my mouth. For the last twenty-four hours I’ve held my breath while I’ve waited for you people to tell me the punchline,” she shoved him off of her to wiggle into a sitting position, “and finally when you all open the lines of communication you tell me you’re a family of original vampires.”

“Not all of us.” He pressed a kiss to her collar bone. “Mother’s a witch.”

With an absence of mind, she threaded her fingers through the short locks of his hair. “And according to her, so am I. Supposedly, a powerful one. Which _is_ a fucking joke, by the way. The closest I’ve ever come to magic was when I binged watch all eight seasons of charmed.”

“Charmed?” He questioned as his fingers sought the treasure buried between her thighs. “You abso-fucking-lutely are charmed, Sweetness.”

“Never mind,” she muttered and then pushed him away to take leave of the bed. The sight of her bare body incited another violent bout of lust to tear through him. Unsteady on her feet, she rocked from side to side as she stooped to retrieve his button shirt from the pile of clothing on the floor.

After she donned the shirt and effectively concealed her curvaceous person from sight, she regarded him. “Look I’m not sure why, but I feel like you’ll be straight with me. Maybe it’s because I’ve allowed you to round first and second base or because it’s Thursday.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “Who the fuck knows? I just feel out of all the monsters that reside in Mikaelson House, you’re the one I can trust.”

“Many would implore you have your senses examined for arriving at such a reckless conclusion,” he said as he moved to sit on the edge of the full sized mattress. She took a step back even as her ravenous emerald eyes devoured their fill of him. “Doing as I please—whether it be sinfully wicked or repulsively saintly—is in my nature. Nevertheless the outcome or consequence.” He stood and began to stalk her. Each step purposeful and beyond deliberate. “Are you aware of what this makes me, darling?”

When her back met the wall he placed a clenched hand at either side of her head. He caged her between him, cheap sheet rock, and plaster. “Yeah.” She gazed up at him with wide conflicted eyes. A gulp disturbed the stillness of her beautiful throat. “A badass.”

“It makes me the most dangerous of the sodding lot.” His fangs burst from his gums. A fraction of a second later the sharp enamel daggers punctured her carotid.

A pitchy shriek collided with his ears followed by a breathy little moan. Like all the others who came before her, she fell victim to the pleasurable side-effects of the anesthetic which coated his fangs and saturated his saliva. If he had a mind to, he could make a bloody mess of her. She’d happily meet her end donning a smile.

Her life cavorted within the palm of his hand. Such power over the little temptress filled his cock. Thoughtless of anything other than his own release, he grabbed her wrist and guided her hand to her mouth.

He released her neck. Blood dripped from his fangs onto his chin. “Fill your palm with your slaver,” he murmured before reclaiming her neck.

Several moments after he issued the demand, she complied. Once she filled her cupped palm with saliva, he recaptured her wrist and steered her hand to his John Thomas. Her fingers encircled the enflamed muscle. The sopping grip beseeched his hips rock forward. Squeezing his arse cheeks together drove his deceiving serpent into the loose grasp of her hold. Displeasure forced a low growl from the depths of his throat. Sometimes innocence could tamper the most wildest of passion.

A chit who lacked experience in the most rudimentary ways of pleasure annoyed him beyond inconceivable limits, yet her naïveté in regards to carnal fulfillment communed with the educationalist in him. He not only wanted to tutor her on the more deplorably taboo side of coupling, he also desired to edify her on the entire sodding spectrum of sexual gratification. Rendering his redundant siblings obsolete.

After swallowing another gulp full of her delectable essence, he removed his fangs from her throat. He then tore into his wrist and pressed the gushing tear to her mouth. Firstly, she attempted to resist his offer.

“Drink,” he murmured next to her ear. “It’ll heal the puncture wounds at your throat. You’ll bleed out otherwise.”

A formidable scowl crossed her face. Upon second deliberation however, she opened her mouth and welcomed his life force into her enticing slim frame. The euphoric effects of his vampire essence lulled her into an extreme state of arousal. Her hips bucked. Repeatedly, she slammed her lower half into his thigh as she searched out a hard rigid surface to assuage her desperate need of friction. All while drawing his wrist deeper into her mouth with her free hand. She slurped him down without any further insistence on his part. Moments into the bloodletting, the suckling sounds and deep throated moans once again incited his lust rage.

Kol slid his fingers into the dampened folds of her undercarriage. The slick warmth of her aimed and took shots at his sanity. Determined not to drain her, he leaned forward to capture her earlobe between his teeth to occupy his mouth. He suckled the soft flesh for a moment, before whispering, “Stroke me, darling. Be sure to tighten your grip as well this time.”

Once again she began to caress him. Gone was the hesitancy of inexperience. Her delicate hands squeezed, pulled, and twisted his knob so, she nearly forced him to meet his end before he had the opportunity to even embrace his beginning. Had he been an infantile vampire or a hormonal human, she’d be doused from waist to thighs in his baby batter.

As he gathered his wits, he found himself questioning his preliminary assessment of her being inexperienced. She had to have pleasured another before him. Her exceptional technique rivaled that of his most skilled courtesan.

When her mound ground against the heel of his hand, he recalled himself. He began to rub tight little circles over the sensitive nub which crowned her oozing opening. Even as he took care to keep pace with her strokes. Deathlessly dying in unison with her without the benefit of penetration would likely torment him to the doorstep of Bedlams.

The scent of her arousal thickened, and the prelude of his conclusion seeped from the slit of his bell head. An exquisite tightening in his ball sack foretold the initiation of his end. He was close, and if the slight contracting of her feminine walls were any indication so was she.

She tore her mouth from his wrist. Dark crimson dripped from her radiant white incisors. “I need you to make me…fuck make me…Kol, please fucking make me!” her whispered pleas, snatched him from the precipice and flung him into the arms of his waiting finale. Her grip upon his cock constricted into a vise clench. He hissed as he continued to pump himself into her hand, allowing her to wrench every drop from him.

Refusing to perish alone, he shoved two fingers inside of her and pressed the spongy softness hidden in the deep crevices of her convulsing walls. She mewled and her full lips formed a perfect O. The slight quiver in the fleshier bottom one ushered forth an invitation he accepted by taking possession of her upturned mouth. A mixture of his and her blood flirted with his taste buds, tempting his barely restrained monster to taste her once more. To lick the most blistering part of her blazing flame. Without warning the world fractured, and then shattered before his eyes.

A century worth of seed shot from his John Thomas, making a sticky mess of her hand and the tops of her thighs. Barely noticing, she continued to stroke his cock as she wailed a fragmented sonata into his mouth, while jockeying the beast of her own climax. Near the end of her release, her knees buckled. However, instead of lifting her into his arms, he guided them to the carpeted floor. There, he placed his back against the wall as he covetously clutched her to his chest.

After several moments of heavy breathing on her part she managed to whisper, “this floor is fucking bad news. We should move this good look to the bed.”

“Shh.” He brought his fingers to his lips and shoved them in his mouth.

The little witch’s honeyed nectar wrapped itself about his tongue and demanded submission. More than willing to oblige, he utilized original speed to reverse their positions. When Bonnie lay sprawled on her back staring up at him, he slipped in the open space between her legs, and then began to slowly descend.

She laughed. “This carpet is going to give me rug burns in tell-all places. You sure I can’t interest you in the comforts of a full size mattress?”

“Fear not, sweetness. We’ll get there…eventually.” he licked the liquid proof of her deathless end from the crease at the top of her thigh. “You have my word.”

                                                                 

* * *

 

As Kol took her hand to help her out of the car—that refused to fucking go away—all she could think of was where his hands had been forty-five minutes ago. Tiny sparks of static electricity pricked at the pads of her fingertips and intensified as the flat of his cool palm found the small of her back.

After the night and morning they’d had she should’ve been worn the hell out and lacking the most technical part of her virginity. Neither, however, held true. It stunned. How the fuck could she still be a virgin? How the fuck could she still be in possession of her spine after he’d blown her back out? Her brain refused to compute.

Several times Bonnie attempted to give Kol the green light that penetration was indeed a go, but each time he swerved her. Instead, he either slayed her with his brains or distracted her with sloppy wet grinding sessions. Each play session always provoked her toes to curl and she’d even discovered a higher falsetto key she never believed herself capable of achieving.

Pleasured denied she was not, but he’d turned her into a raging—sell myself on the corner for another hit of him—junky in just under forty-eight hours. And in true addict fashion, she had to have every single drop of him until she was scrounging around on her hands and knees hoping to find even a few crumbs of him.

“I’m afraid pleasuring you this morning has left me quite ravenous, darling,” he whispered in her ear, before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Run along and I’ll meet you in our first period discussion after breakfast.”

Before she had the chance to embrace her inner Sydney Bristow and hammer him with a shit load of third degree questions he’d already zipped away. She rolled her eyes. Vampires were no better than human guys. Once those undead bastards bit the cookie they were back to sniffing the air to see what else was baking.

As Bonnie approached her locker, her mood further plummeted. Elena Gilbert waited for her with a determined expression that clearly conveyed she had ton of shit to fork lift off her chest.

Not wasting time on enabling fakeness, she began spinning the combination on her lock before reluctantly acknowledging her. “What?”

“Wow, you look…um…” Her brown gaze skimmed her from head to toe, and then snapped back to eye stalk her profile. “Look, I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight,” she said, while clutching her books tighter to her chest.

Of all the fuckery… “Why the fuck would you wanna do that?” She speared the brunette with an up and down side-eye before yanking a couple of books from her locker.

“We used to be best friends, Bonnie,” Elena snapped.

Bonnie scoffed. “In the fifth grade, Elena. That’s like what…a million years ago?”

“It’s just dinner, Bon-,” she started off heated, and then broke off to exhale, “what the hell happened to us?”

“Girl, if you don’t get the fuck away from my locker acting like you just stepped into an alternate universe.” She slammed her locker. “What happened to us didn’t just happen, Elena. We are what the hell we are and we’ve been this way for a minute. So you can just take your lame ass dinner offers, big brown pound puppy eyes, and go Brooke yourself!”

“Wow that’s real mature, Bon—wait,” said pound puppy eyes flared, “did you really just tell me to go Brooke myself?” Laughter shook her chest and gurgled from her mouth.

“What’s so got damned funny?” She clutched her books in one arm, while using the other to drive her fist in her hip.

She just shook her head as a chortle inspired tears brimmed her lower lids. “I’m just remembering the time when we were eleven and Caroline lost Mr. Cuddles. You screamed at her to go Brooke herself. Your mom flipped! She made you sit on your front porch with a bar of soap stuffed in your mouth until you apologized to Care. Who would’ve known Abby was a One Tree Hill fan?”

“Me,” she muttered as she glared at the ground, “It’s the first grown up program she allowed me to watch with her.”

“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” Elena whispered.

She waved away her apology with a snap of the wrist. “Forget it! That bitch has been MIA for a minute too. So if we’re done…”

“Bonnie, please come to dinner,” she pleaded. “We really need to talk.”

“How many times do I have-,”

A cool hand clasped hers. “We’d love to attend dinner at your home this eve.”

“We would?” Bonnie’s face scrunched as she turned to consider Rebekah.

“Of course, Dove,” she insisted, before leveling Elena with a glare that would’ve made Medusa avert her gaze. “What time will you expect us?”

“Wow…us?” Elena’s bulging brown stare darted from Bonnie to Rebekah, and then down at their clasped hands. “Um yeah, seven will be good. Jenna leaves for class around seven.”

“We’ll be around at eight,” Rebekah said, before a closed lip half smile took custody of her winning mouth.

Bonnie inhaled and exhaled way more air than necessary. She tugged Rebekah away. Not caring if they still remained within hearing distance or nah, she went in on the blonde. “Why in the holy fuckery would you agree to break bread with Elena Gilbert of all people? I’d rather go sit down and swallow air with Gandhi!”

“Well, _Dove!_ I don’t trust that little doppeltwit. She seems like the sort to stab a girl in the back,” her tone sharpened over the word dove. “And had you bothered to hear mother out instead of scampering off into the evening with my fiendish older brother you would’ve learned vampires can’t enter a place of residence without an invitation from the person who resides there.”

“Please.” Her brows puckered as the corner of her mouth hitched. “I didn’t scamper off-,”

“No use in denying it. You reek of him,” she said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. “Now I’ll have to draw you a bath and give you a thorough washing before we meet little miss bland for dinner this evening.”

                                                                

* * *

 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully slow, while both Mikaelson’s stalked every step she took. By the time fourth period history rolled around she’d begun to think about making a sneaktastic dash for the exit. Before she could craft the, Shaw shank redemption, of escapes a student office worker informed Mr. Tanner the principle wanted to see her. When she started to gather her things, she noticed Rebekah and Kol do the same. A thorough eye roll that prompted a long drawn out sigh spoke a dictionary worth of words about her irritation on their stalk worthy companionship.

“Hey.” Blue and brown gazes collided with her and burst to flames on impact. Lust blazed her ass. For a full five seconds she burned until she rediscovered her words. “I’m good without an escort. Stay here and I’ll find you both later.” With that said, she stuffed her books into her bag, and then hot stepped it to the door.

She needed some alone time to absorb and come to a conclusion about Rebekah and Kol. They both liked her, but that wasn’t the problem. Her issue was that she liked them both too. Yet, it still wasn’t just them.

Finn jacked the temperature up on her inner—DTF—meter as well. The silent suffering thing he did was fucking hot and reminded her of Vito Corleone. Sure he appeared to be a mama’s boy, but something told her there was a shit ton more to him than just a man tangled in his mother’s apron strings. Fire burned beneath all of that indulgent tolerance, and she’d gladly brave his flames to touch the very center of him.

Then there also was the recent arrival of yet another Mikaelson sibling. Elijah. He may have gnawed on her hand like an extra from—Night of the Living Dead—but had he only asked, she would’ve fed him something with a nasty girl twist—she gave her mind a mental shake. What the fuck was wrong with her? She was with Kol for fuck sakes…or was it Rebekah? At this point who the hell could keep track? Well, fuck it all! She’d gone and twisted her shit into a major dilemma.

Halfway to the Principal’s office, Elijah Mikaelson stepped into her path. Her less than purposeful stride skittered to a stop. Not sure on whether to run away or run her mouth, she stood her ground. He walked a few more steps to close the distance between them. Watching him move, thrilled and terrified her all at the same damn time. The graceful sureness of his movements made her think of a jungle cat. Majestic to behold, but just as fatally dangerous to be beheld by.

Once he towered over her, she couldn’t stop her gaze from travelling over him in a slow perusal. She took in the berry blue suit he wore, which probably cost more than her entire wardrobe of, hoodies, t-shirts, jeans, wife beaters, and yoga pants. The straight lines and superior angles his erect posture inspired, lent him a runway model vibe that intimidated the hell out of her. Even the trivial details (nails, hair, brows, and shoes) most men overlooked, he nailed them like he’d swung a hammer at those inconsequential things. Damn, he made her want to get her shit together.

“Miss Bennett-,” he began in the same calm measured tone he’d utilized the night before.

“It’s Bonnie, Mr. Mikaelson. Please…just call me Bonnie,” she said doing her best not fidget under the weight of his attention.

He inclined his head in an elegant nod. “Only if in turn you call me Elijah.”

She bobbed her head and shuffled her feet as tried not to lose herself in the turbulent intensity of his soul distressing stare. “If you’re looking for Kol and Rebekah they’re down the hall in room 577,” she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

“No, Miss-,” he raised a hand as just a hint of a smile pushed at the corners of his mouth. “Bonnie, I’ve come to ask your forgiveness. My actions the night before were deplorable and rather out of character for me.”

She leveled him with what she hoped was a no nonsense stare. “Were you intentionally trying to take off my hand, Elijah?”

“Never would such an affront be my intent in regards to you,” he assured with a squaring of his jaw.

“Then my forgiveness is unnecessary. Look,” she cast her gaze to the ground before retraining it back on him. “I felt it too, the surge of energy. You know, right before you _accidentally_ stabbed me with your fang. It took you by surprise just like you…I get it.”

She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. The pleasure spasm that pierced her fingertips and catapulted up her extremity knocked her off balance. When she swayed, he took hold of her elbow to steady her.

“Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Bonnie. Yet, misplaced.” His hand lingered on her elbow. “There’s not an excuse worthy enough to pardon my lapse in decency. So I’m here to attempt to make amends by presenting you with an invitation for lunch.”

His request snatched her off guard. Why the hell would he want to have lunch with her? She was a filthy mouth anti-social teenage girl who was about as interesting as a number two pencil. He should be off, taking down supermodels or giving face time to princesses. The very last place he should be is standing in the middle of Mystic Falls High offering _her_ an invitation to lunch.

“Um, I would,” her run at politeness crumpled and her twitchy ways took the wheel, “but I have this thing in the principal’s office so-,”

A genuine smile blossomed on his mouth. “Again, I’m afraid I must plead for you forgiveness. You see, there’s no… _thing,_ in your principal’s office which requires your attention. It was nothing more than a ploy on my part to lure you from your lessons.”

“Suppose I should thank you, then. Tanner’s an ass and I still had forty-five minutes left in the class period. So once again, save your apologies, Elijah. I’m sure you have a ton of exes out there holding broken hearts who can use them more than me.” A frown yanked her eyebrows together and rumpled her forehead. Why the fuck would she say that? Did she actually just make a lame attempt at flirting?

“Noted.” The smug turn of his smile confirmed her fears. “Well, if you’re so adverse to me verbalizing my contrition, then you must permit me to demonstrate my remorse through an act of altruism.” When she reluctantly nodded her assent, a pleased expression settled on his face. He extended a hand that gestured towards the exit at the end of the hall. “After you, Bonnie.”

                                                                 

* * *

 

Elijah Mikaelson watched Bonnie Bennett through his lashes as he filled her glass with champagne. She cast her gaze around the old witches’ property. Confusion and interest manipulated each expression that flickered across her bewitching face.

“I’ve lived in Mystic Falls all my life,” she said, her gaze returning to his. “How have I not seen this place?” The recently renovated plantation house gleamed as a faultless back drop for their luncheon picnic on the lush professionally manicured lawn.

“Cloaking spell,” he answered as he replaced the champagne in the ice filled wooden chiller basket.

One of her brows inched higher. “Cloaking spell?”

“It’s a spell which can conceal the location of any person, place, or thing,” he explained, while moving to occupy the space across from her on the fleece blanket.

She scoffed. “So the spell’s specialty is nouns.”

“So it seems,” another smile found his lips unawares. The third one that day. She amused him without even endeavoring to do so.

“Why would you need to cloak this place? Mikaelson House has gone B&E free for years.” She wrinkled her nose as she poked her oyster fork into the dish of Beluga.

Hmm, it would appear he may have over-estimated her taste buds. “When I acquired a witch to spell the property, theft was not a concern.” He leaned forward and removed a leaf from her rich brunet tresses. His fingertips grazed her cheek bone. Minute whips of ecstasy wrapped around his digits. She gasped and it ruined him. “A little over three hundred years ago one hundred Bennett witches died on this property. In the early eighties I was led here for the sole purpose of safeguarding the property.”

“Bennett witches,” she whispered, catching his hand in hers before he could pull it away. “They were my ancestors. How’d they die?”

“They were burned.”

“The f-fuck? Burned?” She sputtered, and then snatched up the champagne flute and drained the glass. “Like the got damned witches of Salem?”

He shook his head. “Unlike the women in Salem who were accused without cause and executed, your ancestors sacrificed themselves to literal hell fires to save the town.” He took the empty flute from her and replaced the glass in the basket. “And when a witch perishes by the means of violence, an explosion of her magic is released at the site of her death and there it lingers, indefinitely.”

“Okay, so if one witch is a magical explosion, then one hundred witches must be the equivalent of a fucking nuclear holocaust.” Her phrasing was colorful but accurate.

“Now you understand why the property must be protected,” He stated as he catalogued every twitch, pucker, and furrow that happened across her asymmetrical features.

“It’s the same reason why world leaders have lunch codes for missiles and implement a multiple person protocol. No one person should have access to all of that power,” she murmured, before grabbing his flute and downing the contents in it too.

He frowned at her lack of impulse control. Her uncouthness provoked him to contemplate her upbringing. “On the contrary,” he took the empty glass from her hand. “There’s a single witch who is in fact destined to absorb the residual power floating about the estate. And once she does, even Nature will bend to her will.”

“It’s the prophecy Finn spoke about last night.” She giggled a bit, while giving her head a slight shake. “Let me speculate…you and your family believe I’m the witch meant to take in all of this magic.”

Elijah moved to sit next to her and cover her hands with his. “It’s imperative you complete the conversation you began with my mother the night before.”

“Shit,” she muttered. “If only I’d limped my happy ass home that night.” A sigh rush from her mouth, and then she angled her head to consider him with a slanted stare. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Mikaelson, but I’d like to put this out there for you first.”

Unable to summon even a smidgen of restraint he leaned into her until a mere centimeter separated their lips. “Consider me your confessor. Profess your truth.”

“I’m not her, Elijah,” she whispered. “I’m not the witch meant to harness the powers of one hundred dead witches. I know this because I’ve never been what anybody has ever thought to need. And that’s Gucci.” She lifted and dropped her shoulders in an effortless shrug. “I’m okay with riding the bench. In fact, I prefer watching other players take hard knocks while trying to win the game. It’s kind of what I do. Besides, I’ve never wanted to be needed anyway.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” He questioned as he visually traced the fascinating curve of her bottom lip. “Why not my siblings. You and Kol appear to be rather…close.”

“I’m telling you this because you’re the only one who’s looking at me like I’m the answer,” she said as she shifted a bit closer to him as well.

“Yet, you are the answer. To what question? I’m still uncertain,” he said, while raising his hand to cradle her neck in his palm as his fingers massaged the base of her skull.

Surrendering the last of his control, he closed the distance between them to take possession of her appealing plump lower lip. The entire color spectrum of lights exploded behind his eyes. As he ran the tip if his tongue over the seam of her lips, tantalizing energy pricked his mouth. The obscene deviltry then proceeded to dance across the inner lining of his oral cavity.

Moments later, the lid on the treasure box lifted. She’d permitted him sole right to the riches within. He explored every inch of her delicious offering in deliberate detail. When her heart threatened to be its way out of her chest and into his, he relinquished his claim on her mouth. Soft breathy pants fell from her lips as she considered him through low hanging lids.

After several seconds of rapid respirations, she attempted to speak, “Y-you should know I’m seeing your brother and maybe even your sister too. I’m not entirely sure.”

“I’ll be sure to inform my baby brother and sister on my intentions regarding you,” he whispered before he pressed another kiss to her lips. Then and there Elijah decided he didn’t care whether Bonnie was the prophesized Bennett. He intended to possess her regardless the outcome.

                                                              

* * *

 

Esther paced around her study. She donned all of her squirmy troublesome nerves on her sleeves. Oh what she wouldn’t give for bit of chewing tobacco or maybe a smidgen of opium. She shoved another stick of gum into her mouth. Hopefully, it would help her to resist the urge to claw off her skin. How the devil could Elijah go and bungle it so astoundingly? She’d expected such nonsense from Kol. Not Elijah! Never Elijah, he was the noble one!

What other recourse was there for them now? Niklaus would arrive in less than a fortnight! If Bonnie was still unwilling to accept her birthright by the allotted time, he’d most assuredly go the way of that abominable doppelganger. Though one would’ve assumed he’d learned after the Katerina debacle. What an utter night terror she turned out to be. To this very day, he still searched for the conniving little deceiver.

A knock sounded on the opposite side of the door. She turned halfway to regard the wooden partition as her cheeks bulged from multiple pieces of gum. “Yes?” She garbled over, at the very least, three packs of chewing gum.

“Mother, I have Miss Bennett here. She wishes to have a word with you,” Finn called out, before he muttered something too low for her to here. “Is now an acceptable time for a visit?”

Her head bobbed as if he could see her. She then spit the wad of gum into the rubbish bin. Patting her hair into place, she took a seat in her favorite Victorian wing chair. She then said, “You may enter.”

Seconds later, the door opened. Finn entered first, his scrutiny darted over her then swung to assess the room. Hand in hand, Elijah and Bonnie followed—interesting. They crossed the expanse, closing the distance between them. When they towered above, her noble child stooped to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. He then settled Bonnie onto the love seat and appropriated the cushion next to her.

“Bonnie, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” she gushed, while her pointed stare plied Elijah with silent questions. Her noble boy had once again proven himself, the ever capable corrector.

“Thanks, Mrs. Mikaelson. Sorry for running out last night. I needed some time to wrap my head around everything,” she explained, while casting an unsure gaze at Elijah who in turn inclined his head in what appeared to be reassurance. “But I’m back, because I’m ready to hear everything. Even about the prophecy.”

“Of course,” she shifted in her seat. “Your birthright entitles you to unrestricted access on the subject. Where would you like me to begin?”

“Um,” again the younger witch’s stare found Elijah’s thoroughly besotted one. “Tell me about the prophecy.”

Finn placed a calming hand on Esther’s shoulder. The expression of support calmed her enough to still the quaver of anxiety inside. “As I said the night before, over a thousand years ago I attempted to turn my children into immortal creatures and nature retaliated by making them into what the world has come to perceive as monsters.”

“To everything there is a season,” Bonnie murmured. “That must’ve been what Stefan meant. He said my kind is supposed to maintain the balance, meaning nature right.”

Sorrow overwhelmed her, because there was a time when nothing mattered more than balancing the scales for the mother all. “Stefan?”

“Are you referring to Stefan Salvatore?” Elijah queried as he stared down at the tiny fairy with eyes that burned hell fire bright from a rather complacent expression. His contradicting countenance appeared quite foreign upon his usual corresponding features.

“Yeah,” she regarded him as if she beheld the face of god. Well, these events unfolded with haste. The younger witch’s hold over her children was by far the greatest she’d ever witnessed. Niklaus would be a damned fool if he squandered such an opportunity. “He was waiting for me on my porch when I made it home last night.”

“Was he,” Elijah questioned, his voice disarming and calm, while his eyes took a calculating turn. He shifted in his seat to look upon Bonnie. “Did he reveal the reason why he called on you?”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and produced a smacking sound with her lips to emphasize her annoyance. “To tell me to stay away from the Gilberts.”

“The Gilberts?” Finn questioned from behind her.

“It is the human doppelganger’s family name,” the chilly dispassion in Elijah’s voice on the subject of another Petrova counterfeit warmed her heart. If Bonnie could induce Elijah to set aside his regrets for Tatia, then she’d had to be the Bennett of the prophecy.

“Doppelganger, who Elena?” Bonnie questioned. “How in the hell? That bitch doesn’t have a twin.”

“Not a sibling no, but once every five hundred years a human replica of the first woman I ever presented my heart to, is born,” Elijah explained. His gaze dedicated itself to the magical fairy’s face. “Katerina Petrova was the first and has since become a vampire. The Gilbert girl is the second.”

“Get the fuck out! You mean there’s more than one of her nosy ass snooping around?” Bonnie shook her head as she glared at the ceiling. “And if that’s not bad enough, she’s a supernatural reboot of your first love. That must be,” she retched, and then made a gagging noise, “hard for you.”

“Surprisingly, no.” Either Elijah had greatly increased his aptitude for spinning seamless falsehoods are he’d indeed spoken the truth. “When I encountered her yesterday at your place of learning, I found her wanting. Her character lacked depth and facets. She had the personality of untouched parchment. In my opinion, she was rather one dimensional.”  

“Well, I’m inclined to agree with this Stefan Salvatore chap,” Esther interjected, while crossing her legs at the ankles. “Petrovas have a rather extensive history of luring Bennett witches into a premature demise. Another one of Nature’s retaliations against your family.”

“Nature’s retaliation?” Bonnie’s brows migrated within the vicinity of her widow’s peak. “What the shit break does Nature have against a Bennett? I’ve never littered a day in my life and Grams recycled for fucks sake!”

Finn tsked. His disapproval over Bonnie’s dreadful tongue undoubtedly matched her own. “No, dear. The feud between the Bennetts and Nature predates you and even your grandmother. If verity is to have its way, the discourse between your family and Nature travels back three thousand years. To your ancestor Qetsiyah. She was the first witch to ever create an immortal. A being ungoverned by anything, including Nature.”

“And this all involves the prophecy?” Bonnie asked as she moved to the edge of the loveseat. Elijah placed a palm between her shoulder blades, and then began rubbing circles into her spine. She wondered if the young witch even noticed her children’s forwardness anymore.

“Yes,” she answered, while clasping her hands together to cease the fidgeting of her fingers. “After Qetsiyah cast the immortal spell, nature proceeded to try and annihilate the Bennett line in an attempt to offset the prophecy.”

Bonnie waved her hand in a deliberate circular motion. “The prophecy being?”

“To sever Nature’s absolute jurisdiction over supernatural affairs.” She sighed. They’d now reached the crag, either they leaped from the ledge into the unknown or leave numerous years of planning to the rubbish pile by opting to walk away. “The foretelling states, there will be a witch born of the first line of magic. The prophesized sorceress will unite the original linage of mystical power with the second most powerful ancestry of sorcery by absorbing the magic of one hundred martyred witches during her quickening.”

“What’s a quickening?” Bonnie questioned.

Esther’s glance found Elijah’s. A slight shake of his head conveyed his thoughts on revealing too much at once. So she circumvented as best as her wits would allow. “It’s the moment a witch of powerful means comes into her magic. Not every witch experience a quickening, obviously.”

“Think this quickening thing will happen to me?” Bonnie asked, looking highly inconvenienced.

She beamed. “Sweet girl, your quickening will be herald as a celestial event. It will facilitate a revolutionary war-,”

“Uhp, let me stop you right there,” Bonnie raised a hand with a firm shake of the head. “Now, I know you’ve got the wrong girl. First of all, it’s not in my nature to be confrontational—so war is definitely out of the question and second, I don’t have a magical bone in my body.”

“She’s sorely misinformed on both accounts,” Finn murmured low enough that only she and Elijah actually heard.

“You’re mistaken, Bonnie,” Elijah corrected. He gathered both the girl’s hands in his. “Your magic may not have manifested in its entirety, but you’re brimming with mystical energy. It’s literally seeping from your pores. And I’m certain you’re made aware of its presence every time we touch.”

Bonnie’s shoulders appeared to droop under the weight of her foretold destiny. “I guess it’s also how I knew Stefan was a fucking vampire. Which is crazy as shit, since none of you have ever made me feel the way he did.”

“You sensed his ill intent and the depths of his depravity. It’s a witch’s command over that which she has created,” she assured even as she made a mental note to discover all she could of this Stefan Salvatore. “If you allow me, I can educate you in all things witch craft and assist you in learning to master your skill.”

“This is a shit ton of info to deal with in one sitting. Besides, I couldn’t possibly…,” Her words trickled to nothing, and then her gaze found Elijah’s. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

Time?! There was no bloody time! “Of course, Dear. Take all the time you need.” Now what the devil did she do with that spare pack of chewing gum?

                                                          

* * *

 

Bonnie walked a step behind Finn. She followed him to the entrance of Mikaelson House. So caught up in her thoughts she didn’t even realize when he stopped almost one hundred feet shy of the exit. She face planted right in the center of his broad back, her forehead bouncing off the muscles of it all.

“Holy fucking hell!” The slippery words bounced from her tongue before she could stop them.

A loud hiss penetrated her ear canals. Finn spun on his heel to glare down at her with a face full of tension. “Miss Bennett, might I have a word?”

Before she could answer, he turned and entered a room to the left of them. Not knowing what else to do, she gave one last longing look at the door, and then followed. Inside the small sitting room, Finn stood at the window gazing out at the west side of the property with his back to her. She moved to sit in an armchair, prepared to give him time to gather his thoughts.

When her bottom almost connected with the cushion, he spoke. “You may kneel.”

“What?” She couldn’t have heard him right.

Without turning he said, “If you discover yourself unable to persevere on your feet, then you may kneel.” His tone descended from his lips curt and clipped.

“And if you find yourself unable to be polite, you may feel free to kiss my ass,” she said, claiming the seat he thought to deny her.

“I SAID KNEEL!” He roared. When he whirled around, he rocked his full fledge original vampire face.

Without even a fucking thought two stepping across her brain, she slid from the chair. Her knees smacked the carpeted floor. For several minutes he circled her. Not uttering even hiss, tsk, or grunt of displeasure. When her heart finally removed itself from her wind pipe and returned to an acceptable rate, she cleared her throat. To the right of her something smacked the glass topped coffee table. Her glare shot to Finn and her eyes popped several inches from their sockets. Where the _hell_ did he get a riding crop?

“You are wild and undisciplined. Your mouth is a cesspool of vile and detestable phrases,” he said, in a seething tone, “Rest assured, however. I mean to rid you of your rather unfortunate disposition.

“Wait a damn minute-,”

He placed the wired length of the crop vertically on her lips, cutting her the hell off. “You will not utter a sound unless I request it of you.” A hot flood of freak juice drenched the crotch of her panties. “Do you understand, Miss Bennett?” He slid the crop from her mouth to rest on her shoulder.

“I understand, Finn,” her voice met her ears as a breathy rasp.

“You will not address me by my forename,” he lightly slapped her shoulder with the crop. More hot liquid rushed from her pop rocker. Seriously, she’d have to start carrying around an extra pair of tightey-whiteys. “You will refer to me as Master Mikaelson or merely master. The option is yours to deliberate over.” After he finished speaking, he then hoisted a brow and watched her with an intolerant expectancy glinting his eyes.

She swallowed. “I understand, Master Mikaelson.”

“Outstanding,” he murmured as he caressed her cheek with the tasseled end of the crop. “We will meet twice a week, no exceptions.”

Bonnie raised her hand. He inclined his head for her to speak. “This is unnecessary. I have a swear jar my Grams made to help me-,”

“You and I shall convene here again Sunday after lunch,” he said. She raised her hand again. “You are dismissed, Miss Bennett.” His tone left no room for further argument.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning watch out for the lemons rolling around ahead!* What’s up, my fellow Bennett Lovers? Sorry it took me a little longer to update this time. Francesca has been doing the absolute fool the last couple of days, but thankfully she’s gotten over her issues somewhat to help me pound out this one. But enough about our issues, if I bust it open we’ll be here all day and this AN will be twice as long as the update. Sooo…As always, thanks for the all the follows, favorites and reviews. The motivation is f-ing real, Fandom! Alright, let’s freeze all of this mushy gushy and so we can get on with the juicy, juicy! So without further finger pecking…
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

“Sure you wanna do this?” Greta asked as she placed the last touches on a spell she’d spent the last six hours readying. “Your family’s expecting you in the next couple of weeks. So why go early? This other Bennett witch couldn’t possibly be more powerful than Lucy. Didn’t they say something about the girl only just finding out she’s a witch? Everyone knows a powerful witch worthy of her craft manifests their magic early on.”

“True, but it’d be remiss of me to dismiss the witch out of hand without a proper evaluation of her sorcery and fortitude,” Niklaus Mikaelson said as he lay supine on Greta’s altar. “Presenting myself to her while incognito will allow me to do so without my siblings’ incessant interference or my mother’s enduring need to demonstrate the chit’s more glowing qualities through antiquated means.”

Greta snorted. “Esther’s so old school. She’d probably sacrifice a chicken and have the little girl smear herself with its innards, right before she tells you to rut with her.”

“My mother predates school, love.” He continued to watch the overhead of his recently acquired chateau. The features of the ceiling were faultless. A blank canvas which anticipated a design. Perhaps one day he may just create a work of true art. A masterpiece which will assuredly shame the trivial finger paintings Michelangelo inflicted upon the Sistine Chapel. He permitted his mind to drift back to the conversation at present. “In a fortnight when I officially arrive in Mystic Falls I’ll already know the girl’s measure. There’ll be no purpose in dispensing time in favor of posturing upon formalities and customs.”

“And if this one is another Bennett dud?” She asked, while adding a bit of belladonna and night shade to the bubbling brew.

Her tone sounded somewhat strained and distracted, so he allowed his gaze to fall on her. “Then we’ll sacrifice the human doppelganger in favor of breaking the sun and moon curse. By harnessing the power of the imminent celestial event, you’ll have all the magic you need to complete the spell.”

“Hmm, the recurring comet.” She poured the concoction she’d labored over for hours into a golden jewel encrusted chalice, and then approached him with the bejeweled goblet in hand. “The breaking of the sun and moon curse is gonna be a bitch. I’m gonna be out of pocket for at least a week after the fact.” Her shoulders sagged as she imagined the possible burden complicating her near future. “Everything would be so much easier if Lucy was the prophesized Bennett.”

“Agreed, however, since she’s already experienced her quickening, such lines of reflection are idle.” He shifted into an upright position to stroke her nipple through the gauzy silk of her lingerie. “Now enough of pondering over things we can’t alter. Tell me, love. Is everything in place for my surreptitious return to the most tedious part of hell?”

“An employment contract has been secured on your behalf, along with adequate accommodations. Everything is arranged. All you’ll be required to do is step in and go, lover.” She pressed a lingering kiss upon his lips before handing him the chalice.

Blood rushed to his cock and enflamed the ever wanting muscle. The thought of having it off with her once more attempted to destabilize the very foundation of his sound reasoning.

“You’ve done well on such brief notice, Greta. Had we time, I’d present you with a rather toe curling carnal manifestation of my approval.” He pressed another kiss to her mouth and allowed his fangs to nick her bottom lip. The tang of her blood pooled on his tongue. Her answering moan nearly thwarted his schemes. Alas, fate awaited, and she could be a bit of a bitch when she wasn’t attended. With great reticence he pulled away. “Regrettably, it’ll have to hold until next we meet.” He drained the chalice of its contents, and then lay back on the altar. “So try not to be too long, love.”

As Greta began her chant, he permitted his lids to slip closed. Soon he’d be in epic Mystic Fail. That’s when the games would truly commence.

                                                                

* * *

 

“Can’t believe you have us doing this,” Bonnie hissed through stiff lips. Rebekah had some damn nerve committing them to this shit show.

They stood on Elena’s welcome mat waiting on someone to open the damn door. It was the very last place she wanted anyone to find her. And to make shit even thicker, Rebekah rocked a chest full of attitude. Just because she ditched school. How childish was she?

“Well, I can’t believe you thought to take your leave of school without so much as a, by the by,” Rebekah said. Her tone sliding dangerously close to hitting an all-out bitch key. “And yes I know Elijah can be quite knee weakening, but that’s neither here nor there. I was utterly mad with concern, while Kol’s tantrum was so profound, he nigh drained Celeste and Amerie. His own pets!”

Before she had the chance to tell Rebekah what she thought of Kol and his pets, the door swung open. Elena stood on the opposite side of threshold looking a little too damn twitchy for her liking. Her dark brown gaze darted around them as if she expected someone else.

“Well are you gonna invite us in or is dinner to go?” Bonnie questioned. Her own attitude full fucking grown.

When the brunette finally gave up on the hope of another person materializing on the porch, her gaze shot back to them. “Sorry guys. Stefan was supposed to be here an hour ago with take out. I’m not sure what’s going on with him, and he’s not answering-,”

“Stefan?” So this bitch planned to bomb rush them with her eternal teenage stalker. Fucking, fuckery, fuck! “You didn’t say a damn thing about the Twilight reject joining us for dinner. You know his stupid ass showed up-,” Rebekah elbowed her arm. “Ow, what?”

“Boys can be such undependable creatures. Trust me, I know. I have four older brothers,” Rebekah said in the fakest voice she’d ever heard. Elena, however, must’ve had a thing for all things fake, because she lapped it up without any issues. “Invite us in and we’ll see to dinner ourselves.”

“Oh,” Elena’s buster browns nearly exited their sockets. “I’m sorry, of course you can come in, and no worries. I’ve already ordered a pizza.” She stepped aside to allow them entrance. Once they entered, “You guys can go on in the family room. Make yourselves at home, while I try Stefan one more-,” A knock sounded on the front door. “Wow, that’s probably him.”

“Get the door, love. We’ll wait for you in the sitting room,” Rebekah said. She then grabbed her hand to tug her into the other room.

Inside the family area, Rebekah claimed the love seat. She then yanked Bonnie into her lap. As the blonde’s hand caressed her hip, she pressed open mouth kisses to the side of her neck. Despite her attitude, a moan sashayed from her lips without a drop of shame.

“Thought you were pissed with me?” Bonnie murmured as she leaned her head away to give her girl sucking and nipping access.

“I’m livid.” Rebekah slipped her hand under her shirt. Bonnie’s lids slid closed as her soon to be lover slipped her fingers into her bra. “However, why should I deny myself? You’re the one in need of punishing, not I”

“You didn’t tell me dinner came with a show, nice,” a mocking voice snarked and thoroughly decimated the vibe. “It’s no wonder why my brother’s always here.”

“Bonnie Bennett! Is making everyone uncomfortable your default setting?” Caroline Forbes questioned with a superior lift of her chin.

“Oh sweet vanilla flavored, Caroline.” Rebekah murmured, giving Bonnie’s nipple one last squeeze before removing her hand from her shirt. “Your prudish disposition is the sole culprit for any discomfort you may feel. Were you home practicing your tumbles as instructed, your pre Civil War sensibilities would still remain intact.” She kissed the corner of Bonnie’s mouth. “And you wouldn’t be imagining all of,” her cool lips sought the opposite corner of her mouth, “the impressively dirty things I plan to inflict upon my irresistible girlfriend later.”

Bonnie scoffed. Rebekah was all kinds of wrong about Care’s character. Her ex-best friend was as slutty (sexually liberated) as a street corner hooker. She’d give the business to Bozo the Clown if she thought he’d choose her over Elena.

“Why aren't you home planning your racist themed Founder’s Day float?” Bonnie questioned as she allowed her glare to roam over the practically middle aged lunatic at the vapid airhead’s side.

"Or practicing your tumbles?" Rebekah added.

“Because I have a life and a hot boyfriend. Two things you whores seem to be living without at the moment,” Caroline countered.

“Bitch, please! Have you seen Kol? Besides, your granddad hasn’t been fuck hot since the late ‘90’s. Just look at him,” Bonnie twisted her face into a frown. “He’s looks to be on the bad side of thirty and I’d swear under oath he hasn’t brushed his hair in weeks.”

“Go diddle your girlfriend, Bennett,” Caroline fumed, while actually having the damn nerve to stomp her foot.

A screwed smile touched Bonnie’s lips. “I plan to when she teaches me how she likes it.”

“Bonnie!” Disgust deformed Caroline’s classical features. She then whirled around to face Elena. “Why’d you even invite her? This bitch is a drug pushing savage who hates us more today than she did in the sixth grade.”

“Be nice, Care, or you and Damon can leave.” Elena warned. She even sounded as if she meant the threat.

“Bonnie and I should make use of your restroom, before this quarrel escalates into a proper bloodletting.” Rebekah helped Bonnie to her feet, and then climbed to hers.

“You can use the one in my room, the commode downstairs is being fixed.” Elena waved a hand at the stairs.

Bonnie led Rebekah from the room by the hand, giving dirty looks at the perv who refused to stop leering, and the empty headed chick at his side who wouldn’t know self-preservation even if it walked up, introduced itself, and then backhanded her...twice!

When they reached the top of the stairs, she strutted to Elena’s room as if the Gilberts’ house was still her second home.

Once inside the pastel prison, she gestured to the door that led to the bathroom. “There you go. Now hurry it the hell up. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can kick rocks. I’m not sure what Care’s man deal is, but he gives me the bubble guts. Something is familiar and definitely off about Sir Eat-Cocks-Alot.”

“Never fret over dim, Dove. I’ll show you his heart if you have a mind to see it,” the blonde pressed her lips to hers. Tingling warmth blanketed her face and crept down her neck. She then began to guide Bonnie towards Elena’s bed, “but first, I do believe I have a lecture to give.” When the queen sized mattress collided with the back of her knees, Rebekah gave her a light shove and she heels over ass backwards onto the bed.

“What the holy fuck do you think you’re doing?” She laughed as she shifted to balance herself on her elbows. Once in an ideal position, she proceeded to eye fuck her…girlfriend? As crazy as the titled sounded, it worked. “Care’s porntastic geriatric boyfriend is a vampire, and your mom said vampires have,” she raised her hands to make air quotes, “superior auditory senses.”

“Then you should endeavor to be quiet, Dove.” Before she knew what was happening, the blond original had her shoes off, jeans on the floor, and underwear wrapped around her slender wrist. Rebekah lowered herself to her knees. Eyeballing the hell out of her pop rocker as she went. With well-practiced ease, she parted Bonnie’s thighs as far as her flexibility would permit. “Firstly, afore dining on a select repast you should savor the delicacy by inhaling its intoxicating fragrance.”

The blonde buried her face between her thighs. Bonnie’s eyes rolled backwards, when her girlfriend started to make snuffling noise as she sucked in a ton of air through her mouth. “Rebekah,” she groaned. The back of her head collided with the mattress.

“Shh, Dove,” she kissed the tops of her inner thighs, “the next bit of information is key. After you’ve basked in the aromatic perfume of the meal fit for the gods, you then utilize the tip of your tongue to experience just a bit of ecstasy in your mouth. Like so,” Rebekah ran her soul changing tongue from slit to clit over her sodden pop rocker. She stopped breathing for a full five seconds.

Bonnie’s hands shot forth to grip the back of Rebekah’s head. Silky strands slipped through her fingers as she yanked on the blonde’s hair to hold her face in place. The texture of her tongue differed big fucking time from her brother’s. Where Kol’s commanding little muscle demanded and claimed, the blonde’s soft pliable flesh coddled, coaxed, and urged. “Beks, please…” She wheezed.

“Patience is a virtue, Dove. This little jaunt is not about the destination,” she cooed as she ran the pad of her thumb over, Bonnie’s exclusive entrance. “Now, I imagine my reprobate of a brother may have taught you about the lovely bundle of nerves secreted away between your nether lips. About what happens to your core when you apply the accurate amount of friction and pressure…of course he would, he dwells in the realm of the obvious.”

She then suckled said bundle of nerves. The lights brightened and dimmed in the room. Glass shattered to the far left of them. Bonnie’s hips shot up from the mattress as her thighs clamped the sides of Rebekah’s head. A wail that threatened to bring down the house, brick by shitty brick, gyrated at the back of her throat. She confiscated the frilly fuchsia pillow closest to her and covered her face. Effectively, smothering her screams. Unholy fuckery! Rebekah’s brain game would earn her a seat at the head of the fucking class.

“Elena, did you break the fucking mirr-…Bonnie?!” Jeremy Gilbert’s voice penetrated the cushioned sound barrier of the pillow, which she promptly snatched from her face. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been paging you all day. Should’ve known Elena would figure out a way to get you all tangled up in her shit.”

“Jeremy get the fuck out of here,” she slung the pillow at him, while gently pushing Rebekah’s face away. Motherfuck the Gilberts! How the hell did she forget Jeremy and Elena shared a conjoined bathroom?

“Sorry, Bonnie, but today blows!” He stormed further into the room and began pacing. “Fucking Elena and Jenna’s been up my shit hole all damn day. Bet the only reason you’re here is so my bitch sister can get all up in your split about selling me loud and ‘shrooms. She’s so fucking annoying! And don’t even get me started on Vicki. Did you know this over fried slut still refuses to stop hooking up with that dick Tyler? I mean come the fuck on! Why the fuck is she always ready to take a knee for that douche? Seriously, just how dry does her mouth get?” He stopped pacing to whirl around and face them full on, giving him a front row view to her pop rocker. “Fuck it, I’ma need to touch the sky ASAP. You gotta let me score an ounce of the, Rocket Man.”

“Jeremy, I’m gonna literally kick your ass to the fucking moon if you don’t get the hell out of here,” Bonnie growled.

Rebekah climbed to her feet and helped Bonnie cover her lower half with the comforter. She then spun on Jeremy with her hands planted on her hips. “You can either take you leave or I take your testicles, pus bucket.”

“Fuck ever,” he scoffed, and then swung his glare back to her. “Fine, but don’t fucking leave without seeing me first, Bonnie.” He then disappeared back through the bathroom door.

Bonnie shook her head. Disbelief set fire to her mental. Did all the shitty Gilberts suffer from the leading character syndrome?

Rebekah leaned down to press her lips to hers, and then dropped her jeans and underwear in her lap. “Go on and put yourself to rights. I’ll distract everyone until you return.”

With that said the extra bangable blonde original zipped from the room. Bonnie flopped back on the bed. Fuck! The night had just stretched into being, _Lord of the Ring_ , movie trilogy long.

                                                      

* * *

 

When Bonnie decended the stairs fifteen minutes later, Rebekah and Elena were ghost. Caroline lingered in the walkway of the kitchen nibbling on a slice of pizza and her molester stood over the sink doing…dishes? She rolled her eyes as she strolled over to the kitchen. The quicker she inhaled two slices of pizza, the quicker she and Rebekah could get the hell out of there.

Upon entering the kitchen, Caroline cursed her with a constipated bitch face. “‘Bout time, Bennett. I was beginning to think you grew homesick and decided to flush yourself back to the sewer.”

“Care, has anyone ever told you, you’re a passable six with your mouth closed?” She gave her a syrupy smile. “Probably, not. Doubt if anyone could sneak a word in between all of your jaw working. Justin Bieber would be so pegged if someone put a gun to his head and said your next word would get him brain dead.”

“Justin Bieber?” Chester the molester snarked from the sink.

“I said what the hell I said, ass licker!” She whirled around to blaze his ass with the full temperature of her glare. “The Biebs is a Canadian treasure and you’d know that if you were even within a decade of our age! I’m sure you, Hamilton, and Burr used to get it crackin with a banjo and rhythmic knee slapping. However, here in this era, musical tastes have grown a bit more complicated.”

“OMG! Damon’s only twenty-four! I sooo can’t with you right now, Bonnie,” Caroline said, and then attempted to prance out of the kitchen.

Before her Vapidness could leave however, Bonnie stepped in her path. “Where the hell is Rebekah?”

A smirk tainted her over glossed cotton candy pink lips. “On the back patio with Stefan. Guess even Miss Over Easy is getting sick of your shit, _Bon_.” She flounced from the room looking a little too damn pleased for Bonnie’s perpetually twisted mind.

“So what’s with you and the Barbie doll?” Care’s skeevy boyfriend questioned. “Thought witches were against necromancy.”

“Only when the vamps are douchier than a box of, _Summer’s Eve_.” She moved to exit the kitchen and a fraction of a second later she found herself pinned to the refrigerator with Damon’s forearm damn near crushing her wind pipe.

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you how rude it is to trot away in the middle of a conversation, Bonbon?” He exhaled in a breathy whisper. “Besides, if you leave now, you’ll miss the best part. Your family owes me a debt, witchy.” She gagged and wheezed her objections as she clawed at his arm. He bobbed his head as his—I can’t believe they’re that blue—eyes bore into hers. “You see that’s where you’re wrong. The only reason, you’re a living breathing advertisement for birth control is because I made a deal with your ancestor Emily Bennett. I’ve fulfilled my part, now it’s your-,” the arm at her throat burst into aquamarine flames.

The asshole screeched louder than a fucking opera singer who’d been kicked in the sand bags. Not wasting anytime wondering why the flames didn’t burn her, she shot from the kitchen and nearly floated across the living room. As she approached the front door it blew open. On the front porch, her sneakers continued beating the hell out of the pavement without an inkling of hesitation.

By the time she reached the car, she remembered Rebekah still had the keys. A problem for only an inconsequential second. To her utter pants pissing terror, the door swung open, and the car purred to life without the benefit of a key or fob. Fucking, fuckery, fuck!

Instead of waiting for the demon that was no doubt hot on the heels of her Airmax’s, she made the pimp decision to rock with the one who hadn’t tried to pulverize her trachea. She dove into the driver’s seat of the car and headed for the only place she’d reluctantly begun to feel safe. The Mikaelsons’.

                                                              

* * *

 

Bonnie pulled the car to a stop next to the intercom outside the wrought iron gates of Mikaelson House. She lowered the window to press the button on the intercom. An original force snatched open the passenger door. She blinked, and there sat Rebekah. She almost climbed out of the driver’s side window until a cool hand grabbed her wrist.

“Bonnie, what the devil is wrong with you? And why’d you flee the doppelganger’s hovel without some much as a by your leave to me?” Rebekah hissed like she was the one who’d been wronged.

Her neck snapped back as if she’d been suckered punched by Tyson in his prime. “Well excuse me for choosing to run for my damn mortal life over coming to get you first. An indestructible original vampire who can’t be killed!”

“You’re being a tad theatrical, are you not?” She asked. Her eyes narrowed and her pouty lips slightly tooted.

“Fuck that! Where the hell were you when I damn near caught my cut?” She bellowed from the bottom of her lungs. “You talked all of those shit drenched words about showing me his heart, but when I needed to see the motherfucker, where were you? M.I.—fucking—A, that’s where! Wedged nice and tight up Captain Cliché’s fuck hole!”

“Ooh, your mouth-,” Rebekah started to rail.

“You have feelings for him don’t you?”

The blonde’s mouth flapped open and closed before giving birth to nonsense. “I…I…I’m not sure anymore.”

“You’re a thousand years old, Rebekah. That’s too damn old not to know your own shitty emotions.” Her voice trembled under the weight of the blonde’s confession. “Either you fucking do or don’t.”

The inside of the car started close in on her. Feeling a little too damn constricted, she climbed from the driver’s seat. Outside she took deep gasping inhalations. Not stopping until her lungs threatened to burst. She stumbled around to the hood of the car just as the wrought iron gates swung open. And just like a Nathan and Hayley—OTP—moment straight out of the depths of, _One Tree Hill_ , the sky lost its bottom and pissed all over them.

“Oh just fuck me now!” She screamed, only to have her words tossed away by unexplained hurricane inspired winds.

Before she could trudge her way up the driveway, a soft frame slammed into hers. Next thing she knew the scenery melted away to a dark blob. A couple minutes later the swirling blobs bled dry and she stood in the center of Rebekah’s room. The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom.

Rebekah stepped out of the restroom with a large fluffy towel in her hand and a confusion fueled stare locked firmly on Bonnie. She then resumed talking like she’d never stopped, “truth is, I was quite taken with Stefan Salvatore once upon a time. Even had a mind to forsake my family just to continue being at his side.”

“What happened?” She asked, while trying not to shake a bone loose from all of her head to toe trembles.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, Dove. I’d hate for you to fall ill to a lung disease due to an oversight on my part,” Rebekah said before zipping over to her.

After she’d stripped her bare ass she began to rub the towel over her wet skin. “I made the mistake of speaking my plans to my heartless brother.”

“Who Kol?”

“No, the most paranoid of the lot. Nik.” When Rebekah finished drying her, she then wrapped the towel around her. “He daggered me with an enchanted athamae and left me to rot until mother rose again. Which was almost a century later, mind you.”

She reached out and pushed away wet lock plastered to the blonde’s forehead. “Fuck that’s harsh. Sounds like he’s got a little touch of the incest.”

“W-what?” Rebekah half stammered and snorted.

She stroked the cut of the blonde’s jawline with the back of her hand. “Don’t become too tragic over shit that happened almost hundred years ago.” An on the roll tear drop, trickled down Rebekah’s cheek. She wiped away the salty water with the side of her index finger. “Besides, something tells me your control freak of a brother may have helped you dodge a nuclear missile. Anyone who’d willingly pursue Elena Gilbert can’t be much deeper than a rain puddle on a blazing sunny day.”

“Why do you dislike her so?” Rebekah asked as she captured her hand and placed kiss inside her palm. “In exactly what way has that doppelbitch wronged you?”

“That’s a long boring story.” Bonnie padded away to plop down on the foot of the queen sized mattress.

The blonde followed her over to the bed, while swinging her head from side to side. “Oh no, Dove. I’ve split myself open and bled out in front of you, it’s only sporting you do the same.” Rebekah drilled her with a pointed glare.

“Oh hell…alright.” Her eyes rolled to consider the ceiling. “When I was eleven, my mom curved my dad and me. One morning she just snatched some shit from her closet and said she had to go. But before she did—check this shit out—I overheard her tell Rudy, it was to keep Elena safe. Said she’d promised her mom Miranda!”

Rebekah’s striking features crumpled. “Why did it fall to her to keep Elena safe? What of the doppeltwit’s parents?”

“I’m not sure.” She allowed her shoulders to rise and fall. “All I know is, my own mother chose Elena Gilbert over me.”

Rebekah raised her hands as she sat next to her on the bed. “Alright, I’m going to disrobe myself of my team Bonnie t-shirt to apprise the infamous role of Devil’s advocate. So remember that before you have a mind to slash me to smithereens with your appetizing, but quite vicious tongue.”

“Go ahead,” she sighed.

“You do understand it wasn’t Elena’s fault your mother chose to shirk her parental duties in favor of running off to keep her safe, do you not?” The blonde questioned as she lowered her hands.

“At first I didn’t, but a few weeks after the fact I hurtled pass my anger and just wanted my friends back.” Her vision became blurry and she silently cursed Elena for the ten thousandth time since Abby left. “So after I climbed out of my feelings, I went to go see Elena. When I arrived at her house Jeremy let me in on his way out,” she paused to swallow the sour taste of betrayal.

“Everything will be fine, Dove. Please finish.” Rebekah stroked her spine.

She laughed. “There’s not much else to it. When I made it up to Elena’s room I overheard her and Caroline dragging me.” Rebekah’s brow wrinkled as she tried to decipher the phrasing. She released a slightly agitated sigh before she proceeded to translate “You know…talking shit about me. And doing so in the worse way possible.” Curiosity hoisted the blonde’s brow. Seriously? Bonnie rolled her eyes as she further explained. “Behind my back like a two-faced, back-stabbing, pretender.”

“What were those dirty birds clucking about, Dove?” Rebekah purred.

She set her jaw and lifted her chin. “I’d rather not say.”

Her girlfriend didn’t need to hear how her two ex-best friends, had called her mom a skeezy whore who’d rather get rammed by a stranger than spend time with her pathetic excuse for a daughter. It was no one else’s business of how she also heard them wish to never have to deal with her again. She planned to take every drop of that tea to the grave. Because the moment she ever acknowledged their hate aloud would be the moment everyone began to believe those things they’d said about her to be true.

“Well fuck those treacherous sluts,” Rebekah said. She pressed her lips together to stem the flow of snickers. That word in her girl’s mouth sounded all kinds of wrong. “Come, Dove. Your bath is cooling.”

Rebekah stood and urged Bonnie to her feet as well. Once up, she guided her over to the bathroom door. She allowed herself to be pulled inside. The washroom was larger than her bedroom. A glass encased waterfall shower stood to the left. Tucked away in the far side corner of the room, while a whirlpool tub cast in marble sat in the center of the room. Steam rose from the water. A light film of condensation fogged the mirrors over the dual sinks.

As she moved towards the tub, she allowed the towel to drop to the floor. Rebekah then helped her climb the foundation steps in to the bath. When she grew used to the temperature of the bath, she settled in the tub. The pulses of water from the jets provoked her muscles to unclench. She then rested the base of her head on the bath pillow. Relaxation nearly soothed her to sleep.

Gravity attacked her lids. Before they had the opportunity to close though, Rebekah pranced into her field of vision wearing nothing but skin and changed her fucking life. From her full pink tipped breasts to her legs that went on for fucking years, every inch of the blonde provoked her to drool. She didn’t know which part of her chick to visually violate first. She was the detailed definition of perfection.

When Rebekah entered the bath, she scooped up Bonnie. In a blur of bubbles and splashing water, she reversed their positions. Seconds later she found herself straddling the blonde original’s lap as she squirted thick creamy scented body wash on a loofa. Once foam exploded from the bath sponge, she then took great care sliding the scrubber excruciatingly slow over the most intimate parts of Bonnie’s anatomy. By the time Rebekah finished, her entire frame throbbed for something more invasive than a fucking platonic rub down.

Tired and thoroughly fuckstrated, Bonnie leaned forward and took a dusky pink nipple into her mouth. Snatching a page from Kol’s—The Joy Fuck Club—playbook, she tongued and teased Rebekah’s breasts until her nipples became so hard they could cut glass. The low moans and breathy gasps, which fell from the original’s mouth gave her the motivation she required to slide her free hand down her flat abdomen, through her golden curls, and into the slippery folds of her nether lips. Without warning, energy pulsed from her fingers. Beks’ moans soared in volume. The sound enticed her pop rocker to croon, but she ignored its plea for attention in favor of shoving the original to her death.

“Dove, where the devil did you learn-,”

Bonnie plunged two fingers into her and Rebekah began spouting gibberish. High voltages radiated down her arms. Downy satin walls clenched her fingers in a firm, but convulsing hold. Too far gone to pull back or slow down, she continued to thrust her fingers into her girl as she teased her pearl with the pad of her thumb. Releasing the original’s breasts, she kissed her way up Bekah’s body until she claimed her mouth. Tiny pricks of static electricity assaulted their lips. The need to grind herself against Rebekah’s mound overcame her run at selflessness.

Wrenching her hand away from Rebekah’s seizing core, she arranged herself in the perfect position to introduce her pop rocker to the duchess. Because seriously, what else could you call a Va-jj that was so fucking fierce, the juicy goodness not only brimmed with class it also gushed like a faucet with an overabundance of freak nastiness?

Soon as she began to grind against the duchess, Rebekah shifted her hips so her clit took the brunt of the grinds, humps, and bumps. Within seconds the pressure began to build in her lower abdomen as the muted light bulbs began to surge between dim to bright.

Rebekah’s hands found their way into Bonnie’s tangled damp hair. She tugged and pulled until it felt as if her neck would snap. Grabbing the sides of the blonde’s face, she deepened the kiss. The jolts of energy, which hummed beneath the exterior of her skin increased. Aquamarine sparks of electricity threaded itself in grids along the surface of the water until the contents of the bath sizzled and popped like a downed power line being pelted by a rainstorm.

Loud banging noises could be heard on Rebekah’s bedroom door but they both ignored the sounds. Each determined to claim the demise they were denied not once but twice. And before she could say O the pressure building in her lower abdomen bottomed out. An untamed fire kindled at the very center of her core. Flames mercilessly licked at the juddering walls of her pop rocker until a major blow out twisted her body in angles and positions that would intimidate a celebrated contortionist. Blissed the fuck out, she embraced the happiest ending she’d ever known.

The bathroom door blew of the hinges. Four Mikaelson siblings stood in the doorway. Their expressions ranged from hell hath no fury pissed to hormonal and horny.

Unable to do much else she held up a finger. “I may be feeling all of y’all,” she slurred as she worked her ass off to beat back exhaustion, “but I’m a long way from catching a got damned train with you. So back up and live, while Beks and I…go another round.”

After she put her hoof down, her vision tunneled. Her field of vision decreased to nothing more than pin points of light. No longer able to battel fatigue for the hopes of a round two, she collapsed and allowed herself to be dragged into a sea of abysmal nothingness.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another one, Bonnie Lovers! Thanks again for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews. Seriously, the luv you guys continue to show this WIP lets me know I’m doing something right. As I said before, Francesca and I are doing this Fic for the Bennett Fandom. So if y’all want our favorite hybrid to suffer before snatching him into the harem, then your wish is Frankie’s and my command. Have any suggestions? Let me know in the comment box. Not feeling the WIP? Flame my culo in the comment box! Think this WIP is consistently hitting that spot? Acclaim this be-etch in the comment box! Okay enough of the subliminal messages (LMFAO). I’m gonna let you peeps kick back and allow Disclaimer to do what he came here to do. Enjoy…
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Damon watched Stefan gaze at an ancient piece of jewelry like a love sick jackass. He appeared to be on the verge of reciting fuck long sonnets to the damn thing. A smirk hitched the corner of his mouth. That’s what molesting bunnies got you. Hunger pains and a head full of fucking crazy. Once again Stefan had derailed his cause. Instead of tying off a few things in Atlanta, he’d wound up in the last place he wanted to be, Mystic Falls. Weeks before time. It was his own damn fault, though.

Damon had visited the hell mouth a few months back to check on his latest batch of Bennett Witches. Something he probably should’ve done sooner since he’d promise to protect the line. With only two direct descendants of Emily remaining, it’d seen Bennett’s were an endangered species. He’d discovered the first living next to a cemetery in Charlotte with little to no magic remaining. One had been killed over a year ago by a fire hydrant, of all fucking things. While the third didn’t appear to know a damn thing about her craft. Needless to say, he’d neglected to cover his tracks and had led Stefan practically to the doorstep of Katherine’s human double.

This rocked just about all the damn screws from his well-built plan. Why? Because the neutered psycho chose to insinuate in himself in Elena’s life. He’d even enrolled himself into high school. For the 53rd time! All so his daily stalking wouldn’t be disruptive by her senseless weekday outings to school. It was dry sipping if he’d ever seen it. Stefan was one human paper cut away from tapping a carotid.    

The tilted situation had forced Damon to forgo his plots to star in a suckish teen drama. He’d self-cast himself once again in the role of villain in attempts to distract Stefan. Firing shots at him gave his Ripper brother something better to do with his time. The role of hero would keep the sick bastard on the wagon. The last thing he needed was for latent resentments to bubble to the surface.

Stefan’s, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, act made the outcome difficult to predict. He didn’t know what would happen if the love of his existence’s plain lame clone pissed around and said or did the wrong thing. The entire shit show was more critical than a pot of gasoline boiling on an open flame. It was just a matter of time before Elena found herself ripped to pieces, and then put back together like a creepy jigsaw ragdoll.

Fuck, and what the hell was he going to do with Stefan once he pulled his girl from that got damned tomb? He refused to take the disloyal bastard with them. Stefan would fuck, and then stake Katherine on general principle. But leaving him in Mystic Hell to terrorize Elena and all of the wildlife float just beyond grasp of being right.

Peg him twice! His mind needed a mental break. Psychological exhaustion rode him better than Janet Jackme ever did. There wasn’t a single creative thought left in his brain to donate to his one hundred and sixty-four year old dilemma. Not one that didn’t involve the sharp end of a stake. No matter how many times the micro dick begged for a one way trip to the other side.

Despite the many shit storms Stefan had blown into Damon’s undead life, killing him had never really found its way on his to do list. The buttoned down serial killer was still his little brother, and for now he was his keeper. He’d just have to figure their shit out once he had Katherine back under his arm.

He strolled into his brother’s room and cleared his throat. “Um, whatcha doin’, Stefan?”

“Break dancing,” he said without tearing his crazy eyes from the rusted silver necklace hanging from his mirror. “What the do you want, Damon?”

“Thinking about giving the necklace to Elena?” He asked ignoring the multi meaningful question. “Because I gotta tell you, brother. I really think you can do just a tad better than a pendant that she’s probably gonna need a tetanus shot to wear.”

“Oh screw her. This belongs to Rebekah.” Stefan side-eyed him. A smirk yanked on the corner of his mouth. “I’m giving it to her tonight at the pep rally.”

“Rebekah?” For a moment, confusion fogged his brain until clarity cleared it out. “You mean Bonnie Bennett’s girlfriend? Are you saying you have a sack full of hot skeet juice for vamped out Barbie?”

“Rebekah’s been mine since the ‘20’s. Bonnie Bennett is a, none—motherfucking—factor. The only way she gets fish for dinner is if it’s served with a side of beef. And since she’s sneaky hot, I’m willing to entertain the idea of throuple,” he said before taking a sip of a…blood bag? Holy shit! “Bet she likes it rough and hard. Huh, just as well. The only way the Ripper knows how to give it.”

The Ripper?! Fuck! “How long have you been off the rabbit, _Ripper_?” Damon questioned as he picked up Stefan’s journal and skimmed the pages. No, no, no!

“What’s with the fucking Perez Hilton interview? Ever since you walked in, every sentence out of your ovary licker has been a got damned question?” Stefan turned to glare at him full on. “The hell are you up to?” He then raised a hand. “You know what? Fuck it, I don’t give shit! Long as you stay out of my way, do whatever the hell you want.” He yanked the necklace from the mirror, and then zipped from the room.

Damon dropped the journal back on Stefan’s desk. He fished his phone from his pocket and located his latest jump off’s number. After he hit the button, the line rang once and a screechy soprano ripped the white noise to shreds.

“Hello?” Caroline Forbes answered.

“I’m hurt, blondie. There’s a pep rally tonight and you haven’t even bothered to invite than man you’d go ten toes up for.” He walked over to Stefan’s dresser and started sifting through the clutter on top. “Thought you said I was your boyfriend.”

He found a black and white photograph of Stefan, the Bennett witch’s girlfriend, and a fair haired douche who appeared to be wearing lipstick. He left the dresser to walk over to the bed.

“Oh my god! Damon?” She squeaked.

He cringed. Caroline was and would always remain, _Wet Dream Wrecker #1_. Her voice irked him worse than markers on cardboard. “Were you expecting the sexless Cullen?”

“Hilarious, you really should read the first book. You wouldn’t be sooo quick to make fun of the characters if you knew their struggle,” she said in a bossy voice that intimidated absolutely no one.

“Enough about walking and talking statues. Tell me more about Bennett and her girlfriend,” he said, while flopping down on the mattress. “And don’t you dare leave out a thing.”

                                                                  

* * *

 

“You have to come,” Rebekah said. Her tone haughty as she turned every which way to admire her cheerleading uniform. She looked fucktastic as usual.

The cheer skirt and legs which the garment showcased, held Bonnie’s undivided consideration. “And why the fuck is that?”

“Because you’re my girlfriend, and girlfriends are supposed to be supportive.” She angled herself so she could regard her ass. “Today is my first pep rally as captain of the cheer team. Actually, it’s my first pep rally ever. And you, my lovely dove, are to be present at all of my firsts and not just the ones which interest you.”

“See that’s what I don’t get.” Bonnie rolled over on her stomach and hoisted herself up on her elbows. “Caroline would shave the bleached hair from her head before she’d give up leadership over that stupid ass squad. How the shit break did you manage to wrestle control from her without it turning into a blood stained tragedy?”

“Compulsion, Dove. The little prat had no other recourse than to relinquish the reigns over to a much more stunning and capable task master,” the blonde said, while giving her a smile that could shade the sun.

“Compulsion?” Bonnie rested her chin in her hands. “Please tell me vampires don’t have the ability to control minds, too.”

“Second generation vampires and below are able to compel humans, while my siblings and I can compel them both. Not to worry, though. Witches minds are off limits,” Rebekah assured. She tossed her a quick over the shoulder glance and a coquettish smirk. “So be at ease, Dove. You’re here of your own volition. Every errant, immoral, and-,”

Rebekah’s bedroom door burst open. The brass doorknob smashed into the wall, and the solid wooden slab clattered haphazardly off a hinge. Kol strolled inside. His searing narrowed stare slashed Bonnie open and thick yearning oozed from the jagged gash. Once again the crotch her Fruit of Looms’ fell victim to his ability to milk her like a cow.

“You incited quite the disturbance last eve, darling.” His melodic tone crept from his engaging mouth low and deliberate. “Trees bursting into flames, heavens being torn open, the ground shifting beneath our feet,” he zipped over to the bed to tower over her, “thickened atmosphere giving birth to cyclones. All the trappings for a rather seamless apocalypse.” He skimmed his fingertips over the dip at her lower back. “If cavorting with Bekah ushers forth such calamitous events, I’d forego any further erotic interactions with her were I you.”

“You’re a bloody ass, Kol,” Rebekah growled as she regarded his reflection from the mirror. “Take your leave of my room, before I serve _my girlfriend_ your knackers for breakfast.”

Bonnie rolled on her back to smirk up at him. “Miss me last night, toots?”

“Toots?” He lifted a brow groomed for the sole purpose of adding credibility to his arrogance. “Such an inferior pet name. It’s no wonder the world nearly came careening to an end last eve.”

“Blame Rebekah.” She held out her arms to him. He stared down at her for a moment longer before he joined her on the mattress.

“What act of turpitude has Bekah committed now?” He traced her jawbone with the pad of his thumb before he leaned down to brush his mouth against hers.

Rebekah left the mirror to join them on the bed. “Don’t indulge her, Kol. The minx’s aspirations for the stage are quite transparent.”

Bonnie spared the blonde a dirty look. “Rebekah almost got me crossed out last night, Kol. If Damon hadn’t spontaneously combusted, Sherriff Forbes would be on the news right fucking now claiming I had my ass ate out by a rabid mountain lion.”

“What the sodding hell is she on about?” He leaned across her body, planting his elbow in the mattress as he regarded Rebekah. “And who’s this Damon wanker?”

“Stefan’s brother, I think. He says I owe him, because he did some shitty favor for one of my ancestors over fifty-eleven hundred years ago,” she said. Kol and Rebekah shared look that appeared to convey an entire conversation. “I don’t even know what the hell he’s talking about. How in the unholy fuckery can he expect me to repay a debt on behalf of a family member I’ve never met? And why the hell must everything fall on me? I’m sure there’s other-,”

“Which ancestor did he say, Dove?” Rebekah scooted closer to her on the mattress. She stroked her upper arm.

Bonnie tried to ignore the sensations the blonde provoked and how fucking bangable she looked in her cheerleading uniform. She sat up before erotic creativity stepped into the picture, and then they all found themselves sin deep in a devil’s threesome.

“Think he said, Emelia Bennett,” her brows folded in on themselves. She tapped a finger to her lips. “Or maybe Emily?” A shrug rose and dropped a shoulder. “I’m not sure, but I know it was something with an E.”

“Worry not, darling.” Kol leaned in and once again took possession of her lips. Frustration kicked her in the taco when he pulled away. “I’ll have a word with this other Salvatore. He’ll no his place in regards to you soon enough. Although, until he’s mentally castrated I’d prefer you not wander about without giving me notice first.”

Her neck snapped back. “So are we married now?” She folded her arms under her breasts. “Because unless were getting it down in one of our play sessions, I really don’t give a damn what you’d prefer. I’ve shit to do today and punching a time clock isn’t on the fucking agenda, _Toots_.” She leaned over to blow in Rebekah’s ear. Her slight shudder nearly snatched Bonnie’s train of thought from their mental tracks. “I have to go by, _back to the Future Pagers_ , after school and after that I have couple of stops I need to make. So it’d be nice if you both could give me some fucking space while I make my runs.”

Rebekah tsked. “Why so tetchy, Dove?” She asked, while fussing with a few tendrils that had escaped the side do, she’d forced Bonnie’s unruly waves into. “Neither Kol nor I is attempting to dictate your schedule. We only ask that you permit us to provide a barrier between you and those who would do you harm.”

“Bekah,” Kol’s voice slipped into the range of monotone. The temperature in his chocolate browns plummeted as a condescending smirk had hate sex with his mouth. “There’s no cause to coddle her. If Bonnie continues to spurn our attempts to keep her safe, then I’m not opposed to placing her under lock and key.”

“ _Kol!_ ” Rebekah hissed.

“Okay, it’s clear to everyone involved you have a few issues which needs to be worked out, so I’m going to give you a moment or three to get your shit together.” Not liking the turn of the conversation, she scooted off the mattress. Kol had to have lost the rest of his mind if he thought she’d allow him to imprison her. She’d chop off his hands and kick him directly in the asshole before she ever let him lock her in a damn room. “Where’s your mom? I need to speak with her before we leave for school.”

“In her study,” Rebekah answered.

Bonnie’s gaze shifted from her to Kol when he stood and began to stalk towards her with slow but sure as shit strides. “Which way is that?” She took a step back towards the crooked hanging bedroom door.

In a flurry of movements, Kol yanked her into his arms. “I’ll show you, darling.”

“Kol, if you even think-,” she swallowed the rest of the sentence when he zipped away with her clutched tight to his chest.

Several seconds later, he deposited her in front of two large wooden double doors. “As requested, sweetness.”

“Thanks for almost making me swallow my tongue, Kol,” she snapped. “Next time warn me before putting me at risk for whiplash. Unless crippling me is part of your imprisonment plan.” She raised her fist.

He grabbed her wrist to prevent her from knocking. “To keep you unharmed there’s not a depraved act I wouldn’t commit, darling. Whether you resent me or thank me, take comfort in knowing I don’t care.”

“Well I hope your ass is lucrative, Kol, because your mouth just wrote a damn check for cash money shit,” she bit out. Slaying him with one last homicidal glare, she snatched her wrist from his loose hold and allowed her fist to collide with the door.

A prolonged moment passed before she heard…“Enter.”

“Not too long, Sweetness. Wouldn’t want to be delayed for our first period discussion.” He stole another kiss and gawd help her, she let him.

When her eyes fluttered open, she stood in the hallway alone with an overwhelming urge to follow him. She gave her mind a mental shake, and then let herself into the study. Upon seeing her, Esther’s face brightened and a closed lip smile settled on her lips.

“Bonnie,” she rose from her armchair and held out both hands to her. “I’m pleased to see you’re recovered from last night’s events. I, however, must implore you be wary while in the throes of desire. An intense passionate release in one as powerful and unpracticed as you before your quicken-,”

“Whoa, that’s not why I’m here, Mrs. Mikaelson,” Bonnie said.

“Perhaps.” Esther clasped her hands together as a wrinkle marred the skin between her brows. Concern riddled and twisted her features. “Yet, you must have inquiries about the attraction you feel towards my children. I have no qualms explaining-,”

“Why would…” The pointed look Esther shot her fueled her thought process to higher levels. She had to be more careful. Apparently, sexual addiction was supernaturally catching. “Should’ve fucking known.” Her gaze fixed on something meaningless as she heaved herself into the loveseat. “For a teenager I’ve been practically asexual. Then the Mikaelson siblings come to town and now not even chains and shackles can keep my legs together. I mean the things I’ve let Kol-…the way I feel about…and you mean to tell me none of this is even real?”

“Bonnie, every emotion and physical occurrence you’ve experienced since our arrival is supernaturally enhanced yes, but quite genuine I assure,” Esther said. She took the seat on the cushion next to her. “It’s your sorcery’s way of readying you for the quickening. Gaining the full potential of your magic and that of a hundred dead witches from your ancestral line is rather trying within itself. Yet, endeavoring to bed a recently unbound tribrid without the proper tutelage is sheer lunacy. So of course your magic influences a certain level of arousal in-,”

“What the hell is a tribrid and why in the shit break would I take one to bed?” Bonnie slightly leaned away from the older witch. “What aren’t you telling me about this bibbidi-bobbidi nonsense? What all does the quickening entails, exactly?”

“All will be explained before the time is upon us, dear,” Esther assured. “For now, let’s address the reason you sought me out.” She folded her fidgeting fingers into her lap. “Have you come to a conclusion as to whether you’ll permit me to mentor you?”

Bonnie sagged in her seat. Things (mostly Kol’s spotted dick and Rebekah’s shepherdess’ pie) were flying at her from all directions. There’d been no hours, minutes, or even seconds to think about Esther’s offer.

“I honestly haven’t thought about it, but since you’ve brought it up.” She gave Esther an, I don’t give a shit, shrug. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt for me to learn how to wield my magic. Hell, it may even stop me from damn nearing people on accident.”

“Oh, Bonnie,” Esther grabbed her hand and gave the appendage a squeeze. “You will not regret this decision. Why with my instruction, you’ll be the finest witch the supernatural world has ever known.” She clapped her hands together. “Enough of my self-adulation. Let us converse over what has delivered you to my study this morn.”

Bonnie shifted in her seat as the first whips of stupidity struck her brain. “Never mind, it’s dumb.” Bonnie tried to stand, but Esther reclaimed her hand

“Please, dear.” Concern found its way back into the older witch’s eyes. “There’s an issue which is undoubtedly troubling you.”

Bonnie pressed her lips together, and then pressed her index fingers to her mouth. Maybe her paranoia had finally succeeded in making her see monsters in shadows that only cloaked thin air. “Since I awoke this morning all I can think about are numbers. 11, 11, 77, and 5. And I’m not just thinking about them. I’m actually seeing them. On World Star Hip Hop, Rebekah’s screen saver, and even on the damn weather channel…they’re fucking everywhere.”

“Ah,” The corners of Esther’s mouth twitched. Her eyes flared, while she slightly leaned in a bit further. “You’re right to be concerned. Serial numbers have been known to have significant meaning when recurrent.”

Her jaw dropped as she angled in her seat to look at Esther full on. “Significant how?”

“Those numbers may herald the approaching of a momentous event. I entreat you to be on guard. Call on me straight away if you should happen upon any incident which may lend you pause. In fact,” she raised an index finger, and then stood. In long strides, she hurried across the room over to the desk. Once there, she proceeded to shuffle papers lying on top until she came across a plastic bag. “Oi, here we are now. I took the liberty of having Hannibal procure you a cellular phone. Finn’s already programmed everyone’s assigned numbers within the brilliant portable device.”

Bonnie shook her head so hard she nearly ejected her brain from her ear. “Mrs. Mikaelson, you have to stop buying me stuff. The car-,”

“Nonsense.” Esther strolled back over to her and slipped the handle of the bag over her hand. “I’m told a communication device is quite the necessity in this era and I’m inclined to perceive this to be true. Now don’t tarry. Your first discussion will convene within the hour.” She guided Bonnie towards the doors and with a wave her hand they opened. Bonnie sucked in so much oxygen her lungs almost burst. “Rebekah informs me you and she will attend the merriment gathering this eve after your lectures. Worry not about this event conflicting with our now standing arrangement. We can begin our lessons on Saturday, maybe mid-morning if you’re amenable.”

“Um…sure,” Bonnie said, working harder than a ditch digger under the blazing sun to keep up with the conversation. “As long as it doesn’t get in the way of-,”

“Excellent, dear. Have an exceptional day,” Esther gave her a little push into the hall “And don’t misremember to call should you have need of me.”

Unholy, fuckery! Bonnie turned in time to see the door close in her face. What the fuck was that? She felt like a hung over college skank doing the limp of shame down whore’s boulevard.

“Bonnie, may I speak with you for a moment before you leave to attend school?” Elijah stood before her looking like a phat check decorated in a shit ton of commas and zeros.

The overpowering scent of superiority and temptation wafted from him. A strong urge to rub herself all over him rumbled through and jarred her all the way down to the marrow. Her heart hammered her rib cage. Just the sound of his voice snatched all of the moisture from her mouth.

“S-sure, Elijah,” she stammered, while trying her Sunday best to sound respectable and proper.

“Come.” He waved a hand for her to proceed him down the hall.

She nodded and began to walk. A moment later she felt the weight of his cool palm on the small of her back. He guided her in the direction he intended her to go. Every sense that sustained her body dedicated itself to the corruption of his innocent touch. Soon, all she could think about was what he looked like minus his suit.

Bonnie wondered if Elijah still maintained impeccable posture in the absence of his three thousand dollar armor. More than anything she wanted to test the theory. Through different experiments she’d discover the place he hid his buttons. When she did, countless hours would go into her learning which knob controlled what. And her quest for knowledge wouldn’t stop there. Oh, no. It didn’t matter how many endless days and nights it took. She planned to study him until she became the number one and only leading expert in his field.

Fuckery, fucking, fuck! _Ice it down, Bennett!_ Elijah wasn’t like Kol and Rebekah. He didn’t respond to bitches in heat. He probably preferred his take downs with more class than a Kennedy…after prohibition.

They walked a few more paces. He then directed her through a door that led into a smaller room with no windows. A table for two sat in the center of the tiny space. Fine china and crystal goblets bedecked the wooden to surface. The only thing the setting lacked was food, which was okay with her since she hated breakfast.

“What’d you need, Elijah?” She half whispered as she spun to face him. Her breath caught. Just the sight of him knocked her dumb. Unholy fuck!

Bonnie’s hands shook and her knees clenched when they didn’t knock. She couldn’t be more turned on even if she had a power switch for Elijah to flick. Being in such close proximity of him utterly blasted her pop rocker. The walls of her core vibrated as if she’d had surround sound speakers strapped to her ovaries.

Elijah popped the button on his suit. His jacket opened to reveal a hard slim frame that triggered a thousand and one fantasies to skim across her mind. Fantasies that involved her wiping the expression of indifference from his superb features by any indecent means necessary.

He slipped his hand in the front pocket of his slacks as his mouthwatering mahogany gaze ran unchecked over every inch of her face. “It’s come to my attention the Lockwoods’ are hosting a party tomorrow.”

“The Founder’s Day party. It kicks off the Founder’s Day festivities.” She clasped her hands together to prevent the shaking. “The Bennett’s aren’t invited to those events. The couple of times I did attend, it was as Care’s or Elena’s plus one.”

“Then I’m now certain the guest list leaves much to be desired.” He reached out to place his hand over hers. They held eye contact for several moments before he spoke. “Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the gathering at the Lockwoods’ tomorrow?”

Her brows almost leaped off of her face. Was he fucking serious? “Um…” There she went with the fucking um’s. “Why?”

“Mother would like me to ingratiate myself to these fools.” He stepped closer until she had to lean her head back to stare into his face. “And if I must suffer the inbred and discredited, then I’d rather do so in the company of an enchanting sorceress who has the power to engage me with just a glance.”

The last place she wanted to go, was one of the Lockwood’s racially oblivious shindigs. The Founder’s Day party being the worst one of all. If you asked her, the entire fuck fest was nothing more than a sham. Naming an already populated place didn’t make one a founder, it just made them Christopher Columbus. Yet, everything about Elijah pushed her buttons in all the right ways. Besides, she’d go just about anywhere to kill time with him. Even if it meant sitting her ass down in the middle Mystic Falls’ square to watch—heaven help her— _Gone with the Wind_.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Except for the dress she’d worn to her grams funeral.

“Think no more on the matter. If it’s indeed your wish to accept my invitation, then I’ll see to all of the details.” His hand drifted up to cup her neck. He then traced her jawline with the pad of his thumb. “So will you allow me to escort you, then?”

She exhaled. “Yes,” she uttered.

Elijah swept low and brushed his lips against the back of her hand. “Perfection,” he murmured. Pleasure rippled across his features, before his mask of indifference slid back in place. “You should hurry along. My siblings await you at the front entrance.”

                                                                

* * *

 

Tyler Lockwood stared across the bonfire at Bonnie Bennett. Her long wavy hair cascaded over one shoulder, showing off the neck he could spend hours kissing and sucking. He loved marking her smooth brown skin. In the past he’d spent hours claiming her as his. Why not? She belonged to him, he’d known it to be true since their first kiss behind the dumpsters. As unspoken as it may be, everyone around school knew it too. So why the hell was that Mikaelson douche all over her?

He and his sister followed Bonnie around like her pussy skeeted gold and pixie dust. It made him wonder if the rumors about them and Bonnie were true. If they’d actually formed some kind of weird semi incestuous throuple. He watched the blonde chick kiss the palm of Bonnie’s hand, while the dick whispered something in her ear that forced her eyes to roll closed. Tyler’s hands fisted at his sides.

The way they stared at her thoroughly pissed him dry. Like they knew things about her he didn’t, which was complete shit! No one knew Bonnie Bennett better than him. Not even her fucking dip shit of a father. He was the one who held her when she cried herself to sleep every night for a year after grandmother died. It was him who snuck out in the middle of the night to sleep on her bedroom floor when her father started running up frequent flyer’s miles. He even bought her first box of tampons and spent half a day helping her figure out how to use them. Truth is, if he were to run it above a hundred, the word love would never be able to express what he felt for her. There was nothing she could reach for, he wouldn’t be prepared to give.

When the Mikaelson’s by some bullshit miracle left her alone, he took the opportunity to move into position at her side. She greeted him with the same taunting crooked smirk she gave to everyone. That aggravated him all the more. When the hell had he become everyone? He still remembered a time when she viewed him as the only one.

“Four. About time you stopped eye banging me from across the bonfire,” she said as she returned her gaze back to the tepee of flames. “Did you know they planned to replace Tanner with that walking distillery?”

_Wait did she just call him four?_

Tyler shrugged. He could give two baboons’ dicks about if Tanner taught history or not. “No fucking idea.”

“Wonder where they found that drunk bastard? Probably scraped him off the bathroom floor of a bar.” She tossed her head back and barked her laughter towards the night sky. “What about that name, though…Alaric Saltzman?” She snorted. “Sounds like a character from one of those corny ass Hallmark movies. And while we’re talking menstrual flicks, is it me or does Mystic Falls’ newest wino look just like that shit smear Warner from, Legally Blonde?”

Not in the mood to be a dick for kicks, he switched lanes. “What’s going on with you, and the Mikaelson’s?”

“That sounds like a—none of your damn business—question. And we both know I don’t answer those. Three,” she said, while blowing an air kiss at Rebekah who huddled with the other cheer leaders.

_Three? Seriously, what was with the fucking countdown?_

“Well fuck me in the—no go—hole! The rumors are legit as shit.” He spun to the side to hurtle razor sharp glares at the side of her face. “You’re in the middle of a fucking incest sandwich.”

“Why does it matter if I’m getting tagged team by the Mikaelson’s? Do you know how many tequila drenched sluts you’ve spread open since we took a step back?” She side-eyed him as she slid her hands into her back pockets. “And did I once ever question your sanity when you started dicking down Matt’s crazy ass sister? Nope, because that’s your prerogative and I’m polite enough to stay the hell out of it. All I demand is for you to return the fucking favor.”

He opened his mouth to tell her exactly how shit was going down when shitty little Gilbert stuck his ass sniffer where it didn’t belong. “Hey, Bonnie. C’mere for a sec?”

“Break a leg tonight, Two,” Bonnie said before strutting away.

“Bennett, stop with the fucking countdown already! It’s fucking annoying.” He slammed his fist in his palm as his glare found Jeremy—Eat a Dick—Gilbert’s. “And you only say, break a leg, to actors about to go on stage. Not football players in their scouting season.”

“I know.” She gave him a sexy ass smile that gave him major fucking wood. “And I completely stand by what I said.”

                                                              

* * *

 

Kol Mikaelson observed with a wrinkled nose as the elder Salvatore and the human doppelganger attempted to devour each other faces. The dullard had compelled the dim-witted wench to kiss him and she’d helplessly complied. Once he had his fill of her uninspiring mouth he sent the chit on her way.

“Do the plain ones do it for you, mate, or just the ones your brother makes a go for?” Kol stepped out of the shadows, when the sodder spun in his direction. He scoffed. The prat’s reflexes were deplorable.

“Oh joy, the British are here,” the younger vampire mocked. “And wouldn’t you just know I’m fresh out of tea and give a fucks.”

“How amusing you are.” Kol clapped his hands together as stalked ever closer to the idiotic prey who’d chosen to take a stand in favor of fleeing. He tilted his head to the side as he regarded the elder Salvatore. “You know, I never understood the phrase gallows humor until this present moment. Though you perceive the direness of your situation, your feeble wits still seek out satirical light where only wretched darkness dwells. Bully for your obscene waste of optimism, darling.”

“What good are panty dropping looks without a sense of humor?” In a painstakingly slow (over anticipated) move, the elder Salvatore charged him with a stake in hand.

Kol whirled away, relieving the sodding bastard of the stake in the process. Coming up behind him, he plunged the stake in the center of the younger vampire’s chest. The splintered tip grazed his heart, but not enough to render the blow fatal. The wanker gurgled on his own blood as he spun him about face. He smashed the elder Salvatore against the tiny automobile.

Kol twisted the stake and the bugger’s groans wrenched a genuine smile from his cynical mouth. “Comfy, darling? Delightful,” Kol purred as he gazed into nonsensically blue eyes. “Last eve you assaulted my paramour.” Electric blue flames sparked from Salvatore’s sockets. “Why in bleeding hell would you commit such an unpardonable act?” He drove the wooden pike in deeper. “Yes, I know my little seductress’ tongue can be quite vile when provoked. Yet I assure you, she’s rather charming, really.”

The corners of the younger vampire’s mouth travelled towards his ears to flash his fangs. “Stay out of it, Sociopath Holmes. This is between me and the witch.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken. For, I’m between you and the witch.” Kol’s pupils dilated. “Now tell me, why do you perceive _my_ witch to be in your debt?”

Salvatore grunted as he attempted to resist the urge to answer. “The night Emily Bennett burned, she promised her descendants would one day save the woman I love,” he forced through the slits of his teeth.

“In exchange…,”

“For saving her brats.” He growled, while spittle sprayed from the split of his lips. “Bonnie Bennett owes me, and that bitch-,”

Well he’d had about enough of that! Kol withdrew the stake from Salvatore’s chest and moved to slam the sharpened the wood into the sodder’s rib cage. When the point of the stake met the surface of Salvatore’s chest, reality disintegrated until nothing remained except hollow darkness.

                                                                

* * *

 

Screams and flashing lights drew Bonnie from under the bleachers with Jeremy Gilbert. “What the holy fuck do you think’s happening?” She questioned him when he followed her out.

Jeremy shrugged as he pushed a bag of ‘shrooms and Rocket Man into his jacket pocket. “Hell if I know, another animal attack probably?”

A gripping force shot from her center. Her arteries and veins threatened to rupture from the pressure the foreign entity exuded. Searing energy surged to her arms, legs, and feet. Tiny jolts of electricity pricked the surface of her skin. Something potently powerful yanked her to the tips of her toes and propelled her toward the student parking lot. The enthralling sorcery led her to the site of disturbance. She arrived in time to hear the last of Sherriff Forbes half ass excuse about another possible animal attack.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bonnie growled under her breath. “How many times will these brain dead jackasses accept animal attack as a plausible explanation?”

“Cunningham, get him covered up and out of here,” Sheriff Forbes waved her hand at the mangled to hell Mr. Tanner.

Bonnie averted her gaze. She’d hated the man more than pap smears, but the bag of dicks deserved better than to die in the student parking lot of Mystic High. Mr. Tanner couldn’t stand this hell hole.

The deputy sheriff nodded to the corner who began the process of bagging the body.

“We’ll have to take this one over to the county morgue in Numinous. The one in the eleventh district,” he warned.

“Unacceptable,” Sherriff Forbes closed her eyes and pressed the pads of her thumbs to her lids. “That body is part of an open investigation. It goes to the local county morgue, Gerald.” She opened her lids to glare holes through him.

“Not my problem. There are already eleven bodies in Mystic Falls’ morgue, and last I checked, that’s full capacity. Besides, all of them are a part of an open investigation.” He helped to lift the body on the stretcher, grunting every tug and pull of the way. “Face it, Liz. This crap trap you call a town is the tenth circle of hell. And it’s time you invested in a bigger morgue. From the looks of it, this poor son of bitch bought it around 7:07. The sun hadn’t even fully set yet.”

“It was animal attack, Gerald. They’re all animal attacks,” Sherriff Forbes insisted. “You know we have more than our share of mountain lions around these parts.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Gerald raised his hand as he continued rolling the stretcher towards the waiting van. “Tell it to the town’s folk.”

Finally, someone else who wasn’t buying Liz Forbes unoriginal brand of bullshit.

“One,” The number bubbled from her mouth without warning.

“I’ll wager a year’s wages this was not an animal attack, Love.”

A deep voice penetrated Bonnie’s ear canal with ease. The smooth baritone slipped over her nerves and wrapped itself around her senses. It felt as if a palm engulfed in flames had smacked her across the side of her head. Everyone moving back and forth around her stopped mid-stride. Loud talking, sirens, and mournful whimpers gradually lost volume until she heard nothing but that voice and that sentence being replayed on a loop in her brain. A low hum instigated by energy pulses lent a seductive instrumental to the haunting edge of the tone. Yet, something about the voice, no matter how evocative, felt off. Almost wrong, as if there was another voice out there which better suited her hearing.

Bonnie’s lungs refused to accept oxygen, but who in the hell needed to breathe. Air was inconsequential. She turned to her right to regard the owner of the voice which had fucked her life right to the gates of heaven. A fiery being stood next to her, and no she didn’t mean metaphorically. Literally, the hottest man she ever seen loomed before her imprisoned in a perpetual amber blaze. Gold eyes considered her with a shit load of intensity that nearly ignited the (come fuck me) outfit Rebekah had shoved her into that morning. Which was another fucking literal fact! Being smoke actually rose from her clothing.

The man on fire stepped three feet into her personal space. Space which no longer felt like hers, because it had become theirs. The second he breeched the five foot barrier she’d erected between her and the shitty world, she knew they now travelled down a road which would soon lead to them becoming one. 11, 11, 77, followed by a trinity knot, compromised her mind’s eye until she could think of nothing else but her god of fire, those numbers, and that symbol.

_They hadn’t exaggerated about you, Love._ The transplanted thought slid over the walls of her mind and her brain willingly accepted the foreign notion without even a cat fight to the first. The fire god raised a blazing hand. She watched as the burning appendage traveled towards her face at a pace that would piss off an old lady with a broken hip pushing a walker. Anticipation took her under and talked dirty to her the whole way down. A fleeting second before the hand made contact, her girlfriend motherfucked the vibe.

Rebekah planted herself between Bonnie and the god of fire. She slapped his hand away in the process as a hissed question exited her lips. “What the devil are you doing here, Marcel?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *Warning: Lemons are ahead!* Sorry about the wait, peeps, but here’s another one. As always thanks for the support and I hope y’all enjoy this one.
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Niklaus Mikaelson couldn’t remove his eyes from Bonnie Bennett. She was everything he’d been warned of, and scandalously more. Her mystical essence instigated the watering of his mouth and throbbing of his gums. Aquamarine fire flared around her as tiny gold electrical whips arced through the flames. He’d never before beheld an aura such as hers. It radiated about her like a blaze from a candle wick. She was incomparable. There’s no way she could be real. This alluring being had to be a figment of his fancy. Nothing more, nothing less.

He lifted a hand to place upon her cheek, all while wondering if her skin was as soft as it appeared or as appetizing as it smelled. Vanilla, Coconuts, and a hint of pineapples would be etched into his nostrils until nature challenged his immortality. Just as his fingers came within a mere centimeter of her face, Rebekah zipped from the bowels of hell and thwarted him by smacking his hand away.

“What the devil are you doing here, Marcel?” She fumed. “Did Nik send you? You’re spying for him are you not? No need attempting to deny it.”

“Rebekah,” he ground out through the slits of his teeth. His slighted hand clenched into a fist. “It’s been ages, love.”

“Love? Um…who the fuck is this, and why the shit break is he on fire.” The spirited temptress made a show of looking around. Her glare then swung back to consider them both. “And why the hell am I the only one who has a problem with this man burning—the fuck up—in literal flames!”

His brows nearly divorced his forehead. Her tongue was fouler than a well-used outhouse. The manner of speech in which she spoke incited his cock to fill. It would seem his family hadn’t managed to transform her into a walking and talking satirical tribute of his assumed desires. Unlike those wretched bitches who’d come before her. He despised those elitist magical slags.

After his siblings prepared the previous potential Bennetts for their quickening and the mating ritual they reminded him more of pandering sycophants than perspective mates. That’s why he appreciated Greta and now Lucy. They challenged him and that’s one thing his family always failed to teach their pupils. Yet, he sensed this one was different. He could ken from the haughty lift of her chin to the derisive glint in her eyes, she was a creature who’d rather perish than be broken. Which made it imperative he break her until she lived to carry out his every nonsensical whim.

Rebekah speared him with a shrewish glare, before she turned to regard the enthralling witch. “I’ll explain later, Dove. For now, it’s important I speak with Marcel.” She leaned down and pressed a—slow to conclude—kiss to the little witch’s lips. A searing ache singed his sternum as he watched Bekah plunder her mouth. Moments later his glutinous baby sister pulled away. “For now, seek out Kol and have him escort you back to Mikaelson House. I’ll be along, shortly.” With that said, she grabbed his arm, and then zipped them away.

Their whirlwind came to a conclusion in an empty classroom lit only by the moon beams pouring into the bank of windows. The setting undoubtedly meant a great deal to his sentimental fool of a sister. Whispers of a moment shared between she and his adoptive son. Rebekah always did don her heart outside her chest for all too behold. Which more times than not fashioned her into someone quite gullible and effortlessly manipulated.

She spun on the heel of her colorful sand shoes to shoot daggers from her sockets at him. “Again I ask, why are you here, Marcel? You’ve pretended to be dead for the last century, why not continue to do so?”

“So you knew he lived?” He hissed. Her blue sparking eyes flared, and then narrowed anew. Damn it! He’d incited her suspicions. “I meant me…you knew I lived.”

“Of course I knew you lived,” the volume of her voice soared. “For months I mourned you. My heart full and heavy over your loss. I began to doubt I’d be able to carry it for the length of an eternity. So I waited for Nik to go whore mongering for new witches to corrupt and when it appeared he’d be gone indefinitely I returned to New Orleans. All so I could feel near you, and abandon myself to the memories. Yet instead of discovering memories I find you,” she shook a fist at him. “Quite undead and ever persevering.”

“How sweet,” the sarcastic retort slipped from his lips before he could school his tongue. “And here I was thinking you moved on in my absence. Unless I’m wrong in believing there’s more than a platonic friendship between you and the witch.”

She cast her gaze away for the briefest of moments. It, however, was still long enough to discern the latter was indeed true. Shock nearly forced him to miss a step. “You care for her.”

“What if I do?” She bellowed as tears brimmed her lower lids. “And so what if I did carry on without you? It’s no less than what you did after my family and I fled New Orleans! Do you dare utter a denial?” She paused as she soundlessly challenged him to disagree. He continued to covet his right to be silent. Lifting her chin, she sniffed, “just as well. For I witnessed your reign, lover. The king of New Orleans. Is that not what they call you?”

King of New Orleans indeed! He’d learned only recently of what Marcellus had been about since they took leave of their city. It’s the sole reason he decided to commandeer his body for the task at hand. As a punishment of sorts. Though to now discover Bekah had known all along, tsk, tsk. However should he repay her for withholding such vital information? The possibilities were endless.

“That’s why I’m here, Rebekah. To bring you home.” Oh this was too delightful. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from dissolving in chortles. “I’ve searched far. I’ve searched wide and now I’m only just finding you’ve been here under my notice all along.”

“Really?” Uncertainty crawled into her suspicious stare and made itself a home. Just when he assumed he’d gained the benefit of that doubt, she blinked and gave her head a slight hint of a shake. “No, no! You can’t be here. Bonnie’s not just a witch! She’s the prospective Bennett Witch. Please tell me you haven’t misplaced what that means.”

“Bonnie,” The single word…name. It swelled in his brain until all thoughts, ideas, and schemes were pushed against the walls and corners of his mind to make way for the only title worth contemplating. “Is that her name?” The question galloped from his lips astride a hoarse rasp. Of course his spies had given him the information afore time, but what’s in a name? Only the little witch could give such a handle untold meaning.

Rebekah eyed him from head to toe. “Yes, and you being here will bloody derail everything.”

“You can’t send me away, Rebekah. I can’t go another day being denied the intoxicating lure of your love or the exquisite feel of your body,” he said, dying a little more of silent mirth with each word spoken.

“Oh blast it, Marcel. Why can’t I ever refuse you?” She rushed toward him with arms wide, eyes closed and lips puckered.

Bekah could be quite moronic at times. Marcellus would never say such things. “Sister, if we had a go while I’m inhabiting Marcellus’ body do you think it’d still be considered incest?” Unable to continue holding it in, he gave himself over to a fit of cackles.

“What?” She stopped short of plundering his mouth with incestuous kisses. “I-I don’t…” He then saw the moment when his words promoted the lucidity of apparency. Her jaw slackened and her mouth fell open as she squinted her eyes to peer into his. “N-Niklaus?”

“Did you pine for me, Baby Sister?” He preened in the light of his own cleverness.

“How…why…,” she stammered. “What the fuck are you doing in Marcel’s body? Have you completely taken leave of your wits?”

“Fuck,” he tsked, while settling her with a disapproving shake of the head. “Sister, evil communication corrupts stellar manners. I fear the witch has infected your tongue with her vileness. What exactly have you all been doing in the ways of her preparation?”

“What we’ve always done.” Her glare fell from his. “However, Bonnie’s different. She doesn’t respond to instruction or passion as the others have in the past. The wicked little bird actually enjoys Kol's attention. Never mind that, though.” She shoved her way free of his loose embrace. “What schemes are you up to now? Is it your mind to personally spy on our interactions with the Bennett?”

“The Bennett? So you're sure of the little witch’s place in this procession, are you?” He asked waving a hand about. “Attend me well, Rebekah. For none of the bloody lot of you can be certain of who this Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls may justly be. Whether she be the prophesized Bennett or another prospective Bennett pretender.” He began to move around the darkened classroom. “And were I to leave it to you and our siblings to confirm the chit I’d unquestionably have another failed unbinding ritual on my hands.”

She folded her arms under her bosom and cast her gaze down her nose at him. “Well, since you’ve travelled all this way apparently in a form of your choosing.” Disgust twisted her lips. “And you’ve already made the witch’s acquaintance, what are your thoughts on the matter? Does my lovely dove’s magic exceed that of _your_ prospective Bennett pretender? Oh and do keep in mind her sorcery has not yet reached its full potential.”

Her reference to Lucy galled him. The chit’s quickening had come and gone without even a brisk breeze to mark the occasion.

Now after meeting Bonnie Bennett, there was not a smidgen of doubt in his mind she was the prophesized Bennett. Every magical bit within himself sensed her the moment he passed that ridiculous, Welcome to Mystic Falls, sign. His draw to her was unlike anything he’d ever felt. Even now it beckoned for him to seek her out. The yearning he suffered for her ached the deepest depths of his soul. What the bloody hell had he helped himself into with this seductive little siren who called to him like no other? And to think he’d quite willingly offered her to Elijah!

“If I’m to base my opinion upon our first encounter, then I deem there’s nothing particularly exceptional about her,” his said, while knowing all too well it was the greatest falsehood he’d ever uttered. “Yet, since I’m already here, it wouldn’t inflict too much distress to my mental state if I put the chit through her paces.”

“There is something profoundly unsound about you.” Her arms shot down to her sides, and then her hands clenched into fists. “Wait until I speak to mother of your twisted plots and schemes.” She moved to zip from the room, but he thwarted her by stepping into her path.

“You will do no such thing, little sister,” he said as he clasped his hands behind his back. “For if you do I’ll dagger you until your precious dove is too old and feeble minded to remember your name.”

For a fraction of a second fear crept into her scornful expression. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It wouldn’t bode well for you to endeavor to test me, Rebekah,” he said, his waging mask firmly in place.

                                                                    

* * *

 

Stefan Salvatore stood in front of Rebekah Mikaelsons broken gym locker blitzed out of his fucking skull. After draining Tanner, he floated just outside of the moment. Tethered to reality by only one thing…or scent. Her scent. The aroma had hunted him down and crawled into his nostrils. Teasing him until all he could fucking think about was finding the origin of his torment. Like Giuseppe’s prized blood hounds he’d tracked the aroma back to the girl’s locker room to the gym locker of the culprit. Rebekah—Fuckworthy—Mikaelson. He’d know her fragrance even if he was treading ground at the bottom of the ocean. His fangs exploded from his gums.

Not wasting time on bullshit, should I’s or shouldn’t I’s, he’d broken into the locker and fucking scored. Her gym knapsack sat on the floor of the compartment. With twitching hands he ripped open the fitness bag. He tugged a baby-t and a tiny pair of spandex shorts from the carryall. Rebekah had worn them the day before to cheerleading practice. Her essence practically still clung to them. Cherry blossoms, white jasmine and just the hint of ancient magic. He buried his face in the clothing and took in deep inhaling gulps. Breathing the scent in through his nose and mouth. Blood surged through his veins and converged in his dick. Instant fucking erection. He’d desiccate if she refused to give him the chance to fuck her blind.

A scrap of lavender lace at the bottom of the bag pinched his attention. The clothing slipped from his hands. He reached inside the bag to claim the treasure inside. When he pulled out the barely there thong he almost released his load in his boxer briefs. He brought the panties to his face, shoved the crotch in his mouth and sucked. This time pre-cum seeped from the head of his cock. _Fuck this!_ Laundry wasn’t going to drain the monster. He needed his platinum bombshell to take care of him.

On a mission, he zipped from the girl’s locker room. Two rights and a left later he found Rebekah in the south hallway near the back entrance of school in a heated conversation with an unfamiliar vampire. They hissed at each other a few seconds longer before the vamp kissed her forehead and raced out of the exit.

When she looked as if she would hurtle away, he zipped to her. “Who was he?”

“Ripper?” She said on the heels of a sharp intake of breath. Her sinfully heaven blue irises gave him a quick head to sneakers eye fucking. “From which dimension of hell did you just rise?”

“Student parking lot.” The lie slid from his lips as if it had been rolled in butter. “Was he fucking with you?” He looked in the direction the random vampire disappeared. His feet shuffled to give chase.

“I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself.” She waved a dismissive hand. “What do you want?”

He plucked the jewelry from the front pocket of his jeans. When his clenched fist hovered before her face, he allowed the pendant and part of the necklace to slip through his fingers to dangle from his hand.

“To give you this. You dropped it when you and your brother two wheeled it out of Chicago,” he said as he visually devoured her doll like features. His tongue slid over the roof his mouth. Damn! Who the fuck did he have to rip apart to lick her dry.

“My talisman,” She whispered as she reached for the tarnished necklace. “I thought it was forever lost to me. Where’d you discover it?”

“On the floor of Gloria’s.” Energy thrummed through the rusted chain when Rebekah’s fingers grazed the pendant. “Turn around, I’ll you put it on for you.”

She whirled away from him, pulling her long ponytail out of the way as she went. After he clasped the necklace, his hands slipped to her shoulders. He leaned forward to inhale the nape of neck. The scent of cherry blossoms invaded his nostrils as he allowed his solid wood situation to press into her lower back. All too soon, she stepped away, and then turned to face him.

“Thank you for seeing to its care for these many years, Stefan,” she said as she fingered the pendant. Lucky fucking pendant. “However shall I repay you?”

He had a fuck fest load of ideas. Shit! His balls would explode if she didn’t touch them ASAP. “Go to the Founder’s Day Party with me.”

“Stefan, I’ve already told-,”

“That’s my second option of repayment.” He stepped into her personal space. The faint tingle of her magic pricked his skin and forced his dick to throb. “Would you like to hear the first?” He glanced down at the necklace. Shock snatched his eyes wide. The jewelry now gleamed as if it were brand, ass kissing, new.

“Why invite me? Thought you were pursuing the Gilbert twit,” She said, while continuing to toy with the pendant around her neck.

He stepped further into her personal space until her cool minty scented breath fanned across his face. “Reruns are boring and everyone knows sequels are never as good as the original.”

A smirk transformed her fuckable mouth. “Touché.”

“You and I are unfinished business and I don’t believe in regrets. So say yes you’ll go with me. We both know you want to,” he said as memories of all the fun they had and blood they shed flickered before his mind’s eye.

“Fine,” she agreed with a, she could give a fuck, shrug. “But we go as mates or not at all.” He bobbed his head, willing to take advantage of any opening no matter the size. “Give me your mobile phone and I’ll program in my number. Call me in the morning for the details.”

                                                          

* * *

 

Tendrils of consciousness infiltrated the dank nothingness in which Kol Mikaelson floated. A sultry voice guided him from nonentity to blinding reality. When he dwelled once again among the unliving, a repetitive chant encountered his auditory senses.

_“He’s not dead. He’s not dead…”_

Bonnie sat next to him with her arms wrapped around her knees as a bloody stake dangled from her hands. She rocked back and forth as she recited the phrase. The tiny seductress appeared to be utterly distraught…over him? The thought was incomprehensible. No one ever worried over him. Not even his family. So why did she?

“Darling, did you happen to see who ruined my shirt?” He questioned as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

Her eyes flared as the stake fell from her hands. In under a fraction of a second, she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms about his neck. She peppered kisses all over his face.

“You stupid, stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Who the hell did you piss off?” She berated in between pecks.

He looked around and noticed they were in a grassy trench overran with dried leaves. Slipping his hand in her hair he gripped the locks at the base of her skull and with great reticence pulled her lips from his brow.

“I had a run in with your mate Salvatore. The elder one, mind you,” he said as he ran an assessing stare over her face and person to assure himself she remained unharmed. “Just as I was about to relieve you of one half of your hollow headed twosome dilemma someone ran me through from behind. You didn’t happen to witness who-,”

“No.” She snapped. Her entire frame vibrated. A mixture of fear and anger poured from her pores. “When I found you down here, your skin was all veiny and pale. You looked as if you’d been dead for years. But then I pulled the stake out,” she raised her shoulders in a slight shrug, “and you started to pink up.”

“If you didn’t witness who staked me, then how’d you happen upon my remains?” He slipped an arm around her waist to stroke the dip at her lower back as he glanced their surroundings once more. “I’m pressed to believe we’re still within Mystic Falls’ town limits.” Bonnie averted her normally unflinching gaze. “You’re concealing something. A clear violation of our only rule. Nothing between you and I, remember? Now do tell, darling.”

Her eyes rolled as a long winded sigh soared from her lips. “This may sound bat shit cray, but ever since the first time we were together in the bungalow…I’ve been able to feel you and somehow just sense where you are.”

“Go on.” Her confession carried him aback. Had she’d unwittingly utilized their blood bond? Impossible, only vampires could manipulate such a bond. Not even a witch (no matter how powerful) had command over a blood bond.

“Well, about an hour ago I stopped sensing you and it scared me shitless.” She rested her forehead on his. Her emerald irises arrested his. “All I could feel tethered to me was the absence of you. So I followed the emptiness and it brought me here.”

He released the hair at the back of her head to grasp the nape of her neck. The pad of his fingers stroked the downy skin there as he guided her mouth closer to his. Right afore their lips met, he spoke. “I’m sure I told you to apprise either Bekah or I of your whereabouts. Why are you here alone? Where’s Rebekah?”

“She ditched me for a motherfucker engulfed in literal flames, she called him Marcel. And don’t you know nobody but I noticed his burning ass. So maybe I’m the crazy-,”

“Many apologies, darling. Did you say Marcel?” Perhaps he’d misheard. Marcel had perished at his father’s hand nigh a century ago.

She leaned away from him to arch a brow. “Yeah, so? Who the fuck is he?”

“A previous lover of Rebekah’s,” he answered as he attempted to work out the meaning behind it all. “He was thought to have met his end in the early 1900’s. Elijah said it devastated Bekah. His appearance is rather unexpected.”

“Fuck me to sleep! Another one?” Disbelief cavorted across her face. “Exactly, how many more of these dick holes are going to come bouncing out of Rebekah’s closet? I mean the thieving bastard snatched her right from under my fucking nose, Kol!” Genuine anxiety blotted away the disbelief which attacked her charmingly crooked features. “What if she decides to go back to him?” The vulnerability which infected her words and voice, provoked his chest to ache. He, however, ignored the pain.

Although, he abhorred her suffering misery which didn’t eventually lead to pleasure, this agony was necessary. Marcel reclaiming Rebekah’s heart would restrict her from further vying for Bonnie’s affections. “Then allow her to seek her leave. For she’d be foolish to endeavor to do so and you’re too extraordinary to worry of such things or be burdened with the company of fools.”

“You’re wrong, but right as hell,” she agreed. A small smile pushed at the corners of her mouth. “Did I tell you how much I missed you last night?” The sadness in her eyes was mismatched with the levity in her words, yet he wouldn’t allow it to dampen their evening. For he had ways of making his seductress misremember her name. Rebekah’s would be but a small task.

“No, but I’ll permit you to demonstrate any remorse you may feel over my unwarranted neglect for the remainder of the evening,” he murmured, before capturing her lips with his.

                                                               

* * *

 

As soon as Bonnie entered the grand foyer of Mikaelson House she found herself twirled back into Kol Mikaelson’s arms. A cackle forced its way out of her mouth as he began nipping at her collar bone. Holy hell! She should’ve never let on she was ticklish there. He’d had her close to pissing her tightey-whiteys all morning.

“ _Kol_ ,” she gasped, while trying to squirm free of his embrace. “Nulla misericordia! Nulla misericordia!”

He released her. The bottom of her sneakers met the marbled floor with a soft thud. “What an utter misuse of your safe word, darling.”

“It was either that or watch you splash around in a puddle,” she said as she tugged her shirt in place.

“Miss Bennett,” The sound Finn’s voice straightened her spine, while yanking her arms stiff at her sides. “Mother awaits you in her study. Come, and I’ll show you to her.”

“Of course you will, Finn. For everyone knows you haven’t anything better to do than Hannibal’s duties,” Kol snarked as he wrapped a possessive arm around her waist.

She elbowed his smart ass in the side. “Behave!” Standing on the tips of her toes, she pressed her lips to his neck. “And stay out of trouble. If I have to pull another stake from your back then I’ll fucking lose my mind!” For emphasis she lightly slapped his cheek, and then pointed her finger in his face. “I mean it, Toots.”

“And yet I offer no guarantees,” he said, before slaying her with a panty drenching smirk and zipping away.

“Motherfu-,”

“Miss Bennett!” Finn’s tone slashed the explicit word in half. “If you will.” He gestured for her to follow him up the stairs.  

Bonnie nodded before ascending the stairs. When she reached the top he turned right, and they continued on until reaching Esther’s study. The moment the double doors came into view, she released a sigh. Finn was on some different shit and she didn’t know what to expect from him. After their last encounter, she’d walked away feeling like Sally Hemmings. Master Mikaelson? What the hell was that? Yet, she couldn’t deny she was a sopping fucking mess by the time he dismissed her. His authoritative stance agitated the shit out of her daddy issues. She wondered if he still wanted to do the twice a week thing.

He paused before knocking. “After lunch tomorrow you will await me in the yellow tea room, Miss Bennett,” he said without turning. “And it will not bode well if I’m forced to seek you out.” With that said he knocked on the door.

A moment after. “Yes?”

“Miss Bennett has arrived, mother. Are you prepared to receive her?” he questioned.

_She’d better be!_

“Of course, my child,” excitement oozed from her voice. “Please enter.”

After being given the green light, Finn opened the door. Inside, leather bound books were stacked high on every available surface. Unlit candles cluttered the coffee table and small glass vials that held liquid, herbs, and other things she couldn’t identify, mingled among them. With all the chaos spread out in the room, Esther could easily qualify for an episode on, Hoarders: The Magical Edition.

“What, no ginormous black pot of bubbling witch’s brew?” She asked eyeing a couple of ancient knives evenly placed on a silver dumbwaiter.

Esther clasped her hands together as she beamed at her over a stack of books. “I thought we’d begin with the fundamentals.”

For the next several hours Esther tutored her on grimoires and their purpose in relation to a witch and her craft. Then she moved on to Latin. The older witch had her write down a series of words and phrases, which she later had her recite. Just when Bonnie thought her tongue would twist right out of her mouth, they progressed to lighting candles. That would’ve been fine, provided she was able to use a lighter. Instead, Esther expected her to use her magic. And for the past forty-five minutes that’s where she sat. In front of an unlit waxed wick attempting to kindle it with nothing more than her sorcery and will. She felt like a fucking fool.

“I’m never going to get this!” She slapped the candle. It fell to the table before rolling and falling to the floor.

Esther waved her hand, and the stick of wax floated from the hand knotted rug. It soared through the air and replaced itself back in front of her. Aggravation forced her eyes to roll.

“You will,” Esther assured. “You just need to employ a great deal of patience. Now, whatever came of those numbers?” She asked as she perched on the edge of her arm chair and skimmed through a grimoire. “Did the numerical series manifest into anything substantial?”

Her eyes squinted as she attempted to force a candle wick to ignite. “They disappeared after Rebekah ran off with the man on fire. Bet the numbers were trying to warn me about him.”

“Man on fire?” Esther tore her scrutiny from the page to frown at her. “Ah, yes. You must mean his aura. Your third eye must’ve-,”

“Rebekah called him Marcel.” She sat back on her heels.

“Marcel? Why, he perished.” The older witch’s voice shook as her rosy skin turned the same shade as seven day old dog shit. “Are you certain she addressed this man with the fiery aura as Marcel?” A knock sounded on the door. “Enter.” Esther waved a distracted hand, and the door swung open.

Hannibal shuffled in at his usual, sleep walking, pace. “Forgive the interruption, Lady Mikaelson, but the groomers and seamstress has arrived to attend Miss Bennett.”

“Oh, Bonnie. I nearly misremembered Elijah is escorting you to the Founder’s Day party at the Lockwood’s mansion. Run along, I too have to ready myself for attendance,” she said, placing the grimoire in her lap on a stack on the coffee table.

Bonnie’s eyes flared as she climbed to her feet. “You’re going?”

“Of course, pretenses has to be maintained no matter the expense,” Esther answered. After she stood, she ambled over to Bonnie and entwined their arms. With ease the ancient witch guided them towards the door.

Once in the hall, Bonne nodded bye to Esther, and then followed Hannibal down the hallway. Thirty minutes and several wrong turns later, she was led into a large room which hosted a bank of beautician booths, a place for manicures, massage chairs attached to foot baths, and a changing area with several racks of clothing. To her surprise, Rebekah sat at the nail station, while her finger tips soaked in a porcelain bowl.

Bonnie stumbled, but recovered quick enough to play it off, or so she hoped. “Well would you look at her fucking stamina. Not too many people can spend the night getting it in with a long lost ass tapper, and then roll out of their freak nest to have their nails done. Exactly, how does she do it?”

“Please, Dove. Why ask questions when you already have custody of the answers?” Rebekah cooed her bitch face firmly in place. “Are were you not in the company of my brother all evening and the better part of the morning?” Bonnie’s mouth snapped closed, while several hmm’s and ooh’s leapt from the got damned glam squad. Even Hannibal tsked his disapproval. “Just as I feared.”

Not there for their commentary, Bonnie marched over to Rebekah. When she towered over the blonde, she took hold of her arm and tugged her from the seat. Thank grilled Cheezus the thousand year old original vampire didn’t mind being dragged away from her manicure. She followed without any real struggle.

Once inside a dressing room, they stared at each other for a few minutes before Rebekah broke the silence. “Well?”

“So…your ex is back from the dead. Um…how’re you dealing?” She could give a two inch dick about how Rebekah was dealing, but she wanted more than anything to be supportive.

“There are no sentimental reunions in our future. Moreover, I knew Marcel hadn’t departed to the other side before his impromptu appearance at last night’s pep rally.” The blonde’s eyes darkened to a sapphire hue as her gaze settled on Bonnie’s mouth.

Rebekah reached for her, but she slapped her hand away. “What’d you mean you already knew? Everyone else to whom I’ve mentioned it are knocked on their asses by the news.”

“I’d rather not speak on the subject at present,” Rebekah said as she cupped Bonnie’s face in her hands.

Bonnie jerked her neck and dislodged her cheeks from Rebekah’s grasp. “And I’d rather not have your ex two stepping around Mystic Falls, yet here we are!” Even if he is pretty hot and tempting.

“This is absurd. I’m not in the least bit interested in Marcel Gerrard and neither should you.” The blonde rolled her eyes to ceiling and had the damn nerve to growl before drilling her with what some would call a certified hatemaker. “In fact, you should keep your distance from him as well.”

“Keep my distance? Why the shit break would I want to go near him?” She demanded.

“Never mind, we haven’t the time.” Rebekah pulled a dress on hanger from one of the racks. It was a nude sequin backless halter dress. “Here, you should wear this one. Elijah won’t be able to look away once he sees you float downstairs in this.” With that said, she exited the dressing room.

For the next three hours she was waxed, plucked, brushed, and polished in places the sun had yet to kiss. By the time she gazed in the mirror, she didn’t know who the hell was staring back at her. The reflection appeared more beautiful, confident, and grown up than she felt.

Surely, Elijah was accustomed to genuine sophistication. She’d bet dollars to no money, he’d know a fraud when one sashayed in front of him. Right? Apparently not, because when she and Rebekah descended the stairs, the blonde had been right. Elijah appeared unable to look away and it was a damn shame she didn’t reciprocate the sentiment, because he looked down right edible in an all-black custom fit Armani original. However, the skeevy bag of micro dicks at his side claimed her focus.

Stefan Salvatore, stood next him eye fucking the hell out of Rebekah. “What the hell is he doing here?” She asked not bothering to lower her voice. What would’ve been the damn point?

“Stefan’s my escort to the party this evening,” Rebekah answered in a tone that could freeze the fucking sun. She continued downstairs, while Bonnie could do no more than gawk after her.

Stefan’s smirk decomposed into a rotten grin. “Hi, Bonnie. You’re looking surprisingly lickable. Can’t wait to see you cum,” Elijah cleared his throat and Rebekah actually growled. An easy smile glided across his face. “Strutting through the Lockwood’s front entrance. Save me a dance later?” She rolled her eyes. His mouth said dance, but his beady green eyes talked major shit about a threesome.

“Fucking hilarious, Salvatore,” Bonnie said. She moved to continue her decent downstairs and she missed a step.

Before she knew it, she was hurtling through the air. She braced herself for the imminent impact with the marbled floor. Instead, her body smacked into hills of hard lean muscles. “You’re exquisite, Bonnie. In verity, too exquisite for the hillbilly bash commencing at the Lockwoods,” Elijah said, while placing her safely on her feet. “Tonight may prove to be memorable yet.”

“Disasters often are,” she muttered under her breath.

                                                           

* * *

 

As they waited in the receiving line which led in to the Lockwood’s mansion, Elijah found removing his eyes from Bonnie Bennett, for any substantial length of time, intolerable. She was a beguiling apparition. The iridescent sparkle the sequins lit over the flowing nude fabric set her golden brown skin aglow. Keeping his fangs in his gums, had proved to be quite the laborious task. The upswept style of her hair displayed a rather vision consuming view of her lovely neck and pulsing carotid. He wanted nothing more than to forego the artifice pleasantries the evening was sure to settle upon him and whisk away the tempting enchantress to parts only he was privy.

“Bonnie Bennett! Well don’t you look well kept,” Mayor Lockwood’s wife said as her gaze swept over him. “Who’s your guardian for the evening…oh dear, did I say guardian? Forgive me, I meant escort.”

“Hello, Mrs. Lockwood.” Bonnie forced through stiff lips as she glared openly at the horrid woman. “This is Elijah Mikaelson. Like my own, his family proceeds the Lockwoods presence in Mystic Falls by hundreds of years. However never mind me, I’m sure this party is more about having a reason to get drunk than actually founding anything.”

Carol skewered Bonnie with a degrading glare before turning her gaze on him. “Mr. Mikaelson,” she gushed. “Please come in and enjoy the party. Your sister and Stefan Salvatore are already inside. They make quite the head turning pair.”

Bonnie shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the faint sound of teeth sucking escaped her distracting mouth. “Thank you for inviting my family and I. Me, especially. You see I’m rather the historian and my latest field of study has been centered on our fair Mystic Falls. I’ve even managed to have an in depth look in a majority of the founding families historical backgrounds. Your origins are particularly colorful.”

Agitated nerves introduced tension into Carol Lockwood’s surgically perfected features. “Well you can’t believe everything you hear.” She attempted to look pass them to the guests at their rear. “Have a-,”

“I’m afraid gossip mongering isn’t a passion of mine. Everything I’ve learned about your background is based on a county register’s account, judicial records, and the Internal Revenue Services.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I even have pictures. Pink is not really a fetching color on you. Next time you choose to partake in such a scandalous repass I’d favor burgundy wine tones were I you.” Once fear flashed in her eyes, he straightened and tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves. “Now, as tribute to changing one’s past, would you care to greet Miss Bennett again…properly?”

Her regard shifted back to his beautiful sorceress as the muscles in her jaw twitched. “Bonnie it’s truly a pleasure to see you again. Please come in and enjoy the party.” She glanced at him briefly, before casting her gaze back to Bonnie. “It’ll be an honor to have you. The Bennett’s roots run rather deep here in Mystic Falls. Our Founder’s Day festivities can only be richened by your attendance.” When she looked to him again, he inclined his head. Her sigh of relief, dropped her shoulders.

After the exchange, they left Carol to collect herself and advanced into the gathering. When they put a substantial amount of distance between them and the front entrance, Bonnie grabbed him by the arm. Her hold wasn’t restraining, yet he paused just the same.

“What the hell was that?” She asked as she stared pass him towards the entrance. “Carol Lockwood nearly flooded the front walk with a golden shower.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said, while accepting two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. After he handed her a glass, he took a sip to assist him in concealing a grin.

“Wow, Bonnie,” the human doppelganger said as she came to a stop next to them. Her bulging brown eyes swept Bonnie from hairstyle to heels. “You look amazing.”

“You really do, Bons,” an unassuming blonde boy agreed. His stare a bit too lingering for his taste. “That dress is…” he released a whistle.

“Satan’s gift to sequins and sheer fabric. Thank you oh father of mine,” a vampire with electric blue eyes added as he plastered himself to the back of the doppelganger. “Bennett, you’re the inspiration for all the tented trousers from here to the front gates.”

“Are you wearing Alexander McQueen?” A blonde girl accused at a rather unfortunate pitch.

“Y’all need to back the hell-,” Bonnie began.

“May I lure you onto the dance floor, Bonnie?” Without waiting for an answer he plucked the glass from her fingers and handed each of their flutes to the Gilbert girl. He then led her to the designated dance area. After a couple of spins around the floor, tension took leave her body and she relaxed into his hold.

“Thanks for getting me out of whatever the hell that was,” she said as she stumbled her way through the waltz. “They normally ignore me, but I guess a couple pounds of make-up and a bank account clearing dress will turn haters into Stans every time.”

“I find it absurd to even think anyone could ever ignore you. If truth is to be professed, I find myself unable to stop thinking about you,” he confessed.

With her there could be no skeletons languishing away in dark cupboards. Such secrecies created space and he wanted nothing separating him from her. That’s why he was prepared to tell her anything she wanted to know in regards to his feelings for her.

“Bullshit!” She countered in a distracted tone. Something near the top of the stairwell had captured her consideration. “I’d bet every last one of my swear jars, that’s not even remotely true.”

“Are you alright, Bonnie?” Upon his question, her dazed stare collided with his. “You appear to be a little diverted. Would you like to go out on the balcony for a little fresh air?”

“I’m sorry,” she said as contrition flooded her stare. “But ever since we stepped across the threshold I’ve had this strong urge to climb those stairs. It’s almost as if something is drawing me up there.”

He nodded. “Then upstairs we must go.”

“Yeah?” She questioned with a slight tilt of the head.

“Certainly.” He twirled them towards the staircase. “You’re a witch, which means your senses are unparalleled. If you’re being induced to ascend the stairs then it’s a charge we must attend.”

As soon as they reached the bottom of the staircase, he whisked them to the top. On the second level, Bonnie marched ahead of him down the corridor until they reached a closed door. A sign clung to the surface which read no guest beyond this point. Paying no heed to the notice, she tried the doorknob, and the door swung open.

Once inside he followed her over to a Cherrywood wall paneled wardrobe. Almost as if in a trance, she reached out and opened a cabinet on the wardrobe. Nothing of note appeared to be inside. Yet she still slipped a hand in the opening. A lever of some sort was pressed which triggered a false back to slide away. The compartment housed an antique jewelry box, which she promptly removed and placed on the tea table.

Before Bonnie opened the box, her hands paused and her emerald gaze ensnared his. After a moment of silent deliberation, her hesitancy vanished. Upon the heels of a lengthy exhalation, she lifted the lid on the trove. An amber crystal the size of an egg lay nestled in the black velvet depths. His auditory senses detected the low hum of energy undetectable to second generation vampires and humans alike. The jewel the magic emitted was by far older than him.

“Unholy fuckery! That’s the ugliest rock I’ve ever seen. Now wonder Carol keeps this thing buried under lock and key,” she snorted even as she plucked the crystal from the box. “Something like this would definitely explode her tasteless ass!” The pendant’s humming increased. Bonnie hissed, “Son of a bitch!” The jewel fell from her fingers. He caught the oversized pendant before it collided with the area rug. “The hideous bastard shocked me.”

“I don’t think your talisman appreciates such candidness from you.” He murmured as he extended his hand to offer her the jewel. When she reclaimed the crystal, he placed the jewelry box back inside the wardrobe cupboard. “Come let’s rejoin the festivities for a while longer, then I’ll make the proper excuses to facilitate our departure.”

After they set the room to rights, they made their way back down to the gathering. The party continued to dawdle along at a tedious pace. A fact he discerned when they gazed down on the carousing from the top of the stairs. They descended the steps without incident. Soon as they reach the bottom, Bonnie slipped the talisman in his jacket pocket.

When he lifted a brow, she raised and dropped a dainty shoulder. “Where the hell else am I going to put it?”

“Well aren’t you ravishing, Sweetness.” Kol appeared at Bonnie’s side. Her face glowed upon noticing his arrival. “Dance with me before I call out Elijah for daring to steal you away.”

“Fuck off, Toots,” she said with an affectionate lilt to her tone. “I’m here with Elijah.”

“And I’m here with that saucy brunette just over there,” he nodded his head at a rather attractive woman speaking with the Gilbert girl’s guardian. “She’ll be a proper doctor soon enough.”

“Meredith—Dick Licking—Fell!” Bonnie swung around to fully glare him. “Are you fucking kidding me, Kol?”

“Let’s discuss it while we dance.” Kol smirked as he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to the designated dance area.

Elijah straightened his tie as he mentally shook his head over Kol’s antics. He could be rather bothersome during the most inopportune occasions.

“May I have this dance?” He turned to find the human doppelganger staring at him as if she refused to accept no as an answer.

He allowed himself a mental eye roll, before inclining himself in a slight bow. “Why, it’d be my pleasure Miss Gilbert.” With overwhelming reluctance he led the chit out on the floor.

A few spins around the floor and he’d excuse himself with some explanation or other, he assured himself.

“What’s going on with you and Bonnie?” The chit demanded not even two steps into the dance.

“May I ask why my relationship with Miss Bennett is any concern of yours?” He questioned as he retreated behind his veil of impassivity.

She huffed several times before settling upon a scoff. “Bonnie Bennett is my best—or was my best friend, and I still care about what happens to her.” He spun her out and brought her back. “You Mikaelsons are no good for her. The way you all pass her around has the entire town talking.”

“And you and your lot are among those slandering her virtuous name no doubt,” he said growing tired of Miss Gilbert and her rather limited human comprehension of something she couldn’t even begin to grasp the nature of.

“I’d never talk smack behind Bonnie’s back. I love her even if she can’t stand the sight of me.” She abruptly stopped dancing to jab her finger in his face. “Either you fuckers leave her alone or I’ll dedicate all my time and energy to fumigating the shitty lot of you from out of her life.” With that said, she whirled about and marched away.

What an utter lunatic! He really should compel the chit to remain clear of him and his family’s path. Even fools stumble upon fortune every now and again. When he moved to carry out his plan a discourse on the back verandah involving Bonnie, Kol, Meredith Fell, and Tyler Lockwood arrested his attention. His gaze narrowed on her retreating back. He’d have to see to the Gilbert girl at a later date. Without further delay he moved to diffuse the escalating conflict at the back entrance.

                                                             

* * *

 

When Elijah mentioned dinner Bonnie thought he meant maybe grabbing a burger from the Grille. She damn sure didn’t think her meant some elaborate candle lit dinner for two under the stars on a balcony at the old Witches’ mansion. She was not this girl. Yet, he habitually surprised her with things like picnics, party invitations, and now a romantic meal that made her want to try and be.

A man dressed in a simple button down white shirt and black pants, cleared away the left over champagne shrimp and pasta. After the waiter reentered the house with a loaded down platter of dirty dishes, she took the opportunity to speak before Elijah could go into another colloquy about how the food was prepared and what each individual season was meant to inspire on the tongue

“You didn’t have to go through all of this trouble for me, Elijah. Ramen noodles would’ve just as easily hit the spot,” she said.

“Nonsense, your palate deserves nothing less than the finest of gourmet dishes. Wait until dessert arrives. It’s-,”

“Is there someone else?” She ran her fingertip up and down the stem of the wine gobbler, while keeping her scrutiny trained on the pale gold liquid in the glass.

“How do you mean?” If the question snatched him off guard, his voice gave no indication.

She raised her gaze to consider him over the candlelight and his glass cutting features nearly disabled her lungs. He was painful to look at, but visually addictive just the same. “I know this thing that’s happening with you is strapped to a countdown clock.” Not just him, all of them. Rebekah’s ex-lovers reminded her that their lives didn’t just start when they returned to Mystic Falls. “Something tells me, after the quickening you’ll all eventually fade to nothing. So I’d like to know if there’s someone you’ll be running back to when this is all said and done. Knowing gives me a timeline and makes me understand why it’s important I safeguard my feelings.”

“Bonnie-,”

“Because staring at you under all of these stars while bathed in the glow of candlelight, I know beyond logic and reason that I can love you.” She yanked her wine glass from the table and drained the contents. Why the hell did she just show her hand? She never showed her hand! “And not just any love, either. I’m talking about the crazy kind of love that will launch a thousand ships just to retrieve you. A covetous type of love that will send your chick to the front lines of a major battle to die just so I can call you all mine and mean it.” She exhaled a stream of air through pursed lips. “So if there is someone else please let me know now. I need a legit reason to pump brakes.”

Elijah’s mask of indifference lay in pieces on the dinner table. Everything she’d confessed shined neon bright from his mahogany browns and radiated from his expression. “There’s someone else, but our association has more or less run its course. Our relationship no longer holds any true commitments or obligations.” He slid a hand across the table to capture hers. “And although the steady approach of your quickening stirs unquenchable desire in my siblings and me, please know my interest in you travels far beyond supernatural means.”

“Yeah?” She questioned.

He rose from his seat to round the dinner table. Faster than her eyelids could blink, she found herself perched on his knee. His fingers stroked her bare back as a narrow eyed assessing stare crept over her face. After a moment of perusal he spoke. “What’s incited such doubt in you?”

“Are you serious?” She shifted in his lap to look at him full on. “My mom two stepped out the door when I was twelve, my dad and I is rarely ever on the same coast, and I still have stab wounds in my back from my so called best friends.”

“Not to mention Marcel’s reappearance in Rebekah’s life,” he said. She let him draw her deeper into his embrace, and then rested her head at the curve of his neck.

She sighed. “So you’ve heard.”

“Mother, disclosed the details to me earlier this afternoon. I apologize if this causes you unnecessary pain. We’ve long now thought Marcel dead.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “My baby sister can be intentionally cruel in other aspects, yet never in the ways of love and legitimate affection. If her heart indeed still lies with Marcel Gerrard then be assured she’ll not lead you about without the hope of a true destination.”

Boldness discovered an opening and slithered inside of her. Not long after, the brazen state of mind began to push buttons. “And what of your heart, Elijah?” Her palm covered his left pec. “Where does yours lie?”

Instead of answering, his soft cool lips discovered hers. She expected his kiss to be gentle, but it was selfish and demanding. The more she gave, the more he claimed and the more he needed. The vicious cycle devoured her attention. Every nerve in her body quaked at just the hint of stimulation. She wanted his hands all over her, touching her in places that rarely experienced the tingling sensation of a cool breeze. Instead of fondling, fingering or massaging her, one hand continued to stroke her back like a shit eating lap dog, while the other caressed the center of her palm with the pad of his thumb.

The inconsistency of his corrupting oral play and virtuous fingers, confused, excited, and frustrated the hell out of her. How the hell could he make her feel like the aggressor and the pursued all at once? She couldn’t be sure just whom the hell was seducing whom. All she knew was she wanted to be writhing and naked under this man ASAP! She reached for his tie, but he lightly slapped her hand away.

He broke the kiss. “Bonnie, I’d very much like to receive my dessert in the master bedroom and if you’re receptive to the invitation I’d be honored if you joined me as well.” His fingers continued to skim the length of her spine, stoking a fire at the center of her womanhood she hoped like hell he was capable and ready to extinguish. “Under no circumstances is it my intent to make you feel pressured, so if the proposal unnerves-,”

Bonnie abruptly straightened and pulled her foot into her lap. She then proceeded to unbuckle her stilettos, unforgivingly dropping each of them to the lime stone floor. Once free of the strap on torture devices, she climbed from his lap and arched a brow. “Which way is the master bedroom, left or right?”

Without opening his damn mouth, he zipped towards her and lifted her into his arms as if she’d just said, I do. Her surroundings blurred into a live depiction of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. A barrage of colors overtook her field of vision as gushing air whipped across her face. By the time she adjusted to the speed the ride came to an abrupt stop.

Elijah lowered her to her feet, and then began to circle her. In slow perusal, his inquisitive stare crept over her. When he completed a full rotation, he stopped at her rear. The bulge in his pants met the dip in her back. Hills of hard lean muscles pressed against her scapulas as cool lips grazed the lobe of her ear.

“Flawless,” he whispered, before untying the strings of her dress.

The gauzy material pooled at her feet as the air thickened and became a little difficult to breathe. His hands skimmed up her sides until they palmed her breasts. Gasps fell from her mouth one after the other as he pinched and tugged at her nipples. The proof of her need leaked from the crevices of her thongs. Her hips swayed from side to side as he trailed kisses from the sensitive skin behind her ear to curve her neck. Once her nipples tightened, his hands drifted down her abdomen until his fingertips touched the hem of her G-string.

“May I?” He nipped her shoulder.

She nodded. “Please.”

His fingers breached the hem, and then he guided the lace over her thighs and down her legs. He kissed her left ass cheek as he went. When her thongs met her ankles, he prompted her to step out of them by tapping her calf.

Soon as she wore nothing more than a come do me expression, he straightened from his crouch. He rounded her body. Once she stood face to neck with him, she angled her head back to look up at him.

“We have a fucking problem, Mr. Mikaelson.” She snaked her arms around his neck.

A hint of a smirk kissed his lips. “Which problem would that be, Miss Bennett?” He questioned as his fingers delved into the apex of her thighs. When he located the her special button she purred her approval.

“Your suit,” she groaned as his fingers skimmed over her pearl tongue.

His blistering stare began to stalk each of her expressions. “My suit? What of my suit?”

“It should be on the floor keeping my dress company,” she said reaching out and unknotting his tie.

Once the strip of silk hung loose around his neck, she snatched it free of his collar and tossed it over her shoulder. She then she went for his shirt.

“Please don’t displace the butt-,” he began.

An evil smirk corrupted her lips as she tore the dress shirt open. Fucking buttons flew everywhere. He growled, and then yanked her up in his arms. Before she could recover from the thigh clenching vibration of his rumbling chest he literally body slammed her on the king sized mattress.

Surprise rocked her shit. Who would’ve thought Elijah could dance dirty? She propped herself on her elbows in time to see him discard his torn shirt on the floor. Soon after his pants followed. Her eyes nearly leaped from her sockets. Shock feasted on all of her preconceived notions about the most posh Mikaelson. Who’d ever thought the noble Elijah paraded around Mystic Falls without boxers, briefs, or drawers to the fucking first? Undone by the distance still remaining between them she crooked a finger at him. He joined her on the king sized mattress without further prompting.

When his body covered hers she opened her legs to guide him where she needed him most, but he blocked the move with a swift roll. Not even a second later she straddled him, while he reclined on a mountain of designer pillows. The shaft of his manhood had firmly wedged itself between her pop rocker’s lips. She leaned forward to kiss him, and the movement caused her seeping slit and fully engaged clit to slide over the fucking yuletide log parlaying at present in her hot spot.

A moan tangled with a growl exploded from Elijah’s mouth. The expression of sheer ecstasy on his face stunned her motionless. Was Mr. GQ Smooth a moaner? To test the theory she bucked her hips again. This time he tried to bite his bottom lip to prevent the sound, but his throaty squeal still escaped the prison of his perfect white teeth. Oh this shit was going to be epic! She leaned forward and grabbed the hills of his chest for leverage. Slowly, she began to rock her hips back and forth. The pleasure enflaming sensation made her drool.

A familiar pressure throbbed to life at the center of her core as something new hummed to life at her midsection. The sensation resonated within her abdomen in sync with the same rhythm of her thrusting hips. Elijah’s hands shot forth and gripped her waist. He pressed her lower half down on him which initiated her pearl tongue to take an even more mouthwatering beating from the bell head of his manhood. The pressure in her core swelled and pushed into her lower abdomen. By this time her own wailing began to mingle with his low growling moans. If she didn’t fucking cum soon she would lose her twisted mind! Sweat dripped from her scalp and trickled down the nape of her neck as she worked harder than a sled dog to reach the needle point of her climax.

Before she knew it, her world flipped again. This time she found herself on her hands and knew as Elijah plunged his unyielding wood between the apexes of her pressed together thighs. The impressive length of him slid against the most sensitive parts of her and produced a static electricity of sensual friction that would more or less spark her ass for weeks to come. The pressure began to radiate from lower abdomen and rebounded throughout her entire frame. Her thighs and arms began to tremble as his thrusts became jerky and erratic.

An explosion of energy shook the walls of the room. Balcony doors blew open. The darkened room erupted in a glow of flickering candle lights. Almost at the same time, nonsense spilled from their mouths as the Hercules of orgasms simultaneously slayed them. The convulsions that ricocheted off the walls of her pop rocker nearly quaked them both to quivering bits.

Curiously, hot freak juice shot from between her thighs to mingle with his lukewarm baby making serum. Bonnie collapsed face first into a pile of pillows. Elijah crashed on top of her, driving her further into the pillow toped mattress. An exhausted laugh wobbled from her lips. Holy shit! That was fucking everything!

“You should be aware it’s my intention to one day burden you with my name,” he whispered next to her ear.

A content smile blossomed on her usually unenthusiastic lips. “And you should know, I’m fucking bananas enough to let you.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here’s another one, Bennett Lover’s! Enjoy…
> 
> Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Rebekah watched Stefan from the Lockwood's second level balcony. He led a girl from the party to a shadowed area of the property. The chit staggered after him over intoxicated and undoubtedly compelled until her level of comprehension compared to that of a tadpole. He'd attempted to persuade her to join him. Yet, the proper mood required to relish bloodletting escaped her.

Bonnie consumed her to the point of obsession. Their confrontation earlier still haunted her every thought. The tension between them made her uncomfortable. Every conversation spoken that day felt forced. Even mundane topics grated on her. A dull ache throbbed at the center of her chest. Of all the Bennett's gone by, why did Bonnie have such a hold over her? She cared for the chit with foolish a heart. The vulnerable organ beat for the witch, exposed and open for all to behold.

"You've been detached all evening, my daughter," Her mother said as she stepped to the banister to stand next to her. "What troubles you?"

"I'm at ease, mother," she ironically lied with ease. "Why ever would you believe otherwise?" Esther simply smiled at her. Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm bloody miserable. The witch refuses to speak to me because I neglected to disclose my past with Marcel before he made an appearance in Mystic Falls."

"Bonnie is not the unforgiving sort. I'm certain if you plead for her pardon she'd bestow it upon you." Esther placed a hand on her forearm as she cast her gaze out over the Lockwood estate.

"It's not only the discourse in our relationship at present," Rebekah covered her mother's hand with her own. "I've come to care for her and I fear my emotions may compromise the design." She studied Esther's profile from the cut of her eye. "What if I'm unable to relinquish my hold on her when the time advances?"

"Rebekah, heed my words. You won't misplace Bonnie once the quickening and mating ritual is complete," she said as she gently squeezed Rebekah's hand. "Can you not comprehend all that will be gained between you and her once the prophecy has had its way? The heights your relationship with her will grow? You will gain a bosom sister."

"I bloody have a sister, I need not another!" She bit her bottom lip. She'd said too much on a subject never meant to be spoken. After deeply inhaling unneeded oxygen, she resumed. "Mother, there's no way I can bring myself to fathom such a time." Her vision blurred. Disparity engulfed her. "For once all this quickening and mating business is complete, she'll be Nik's and mine no more." She brushed a tear from her cheek, undoubtedly smearing her rouge in the process.

"Rebekah, the destination may have already been foretold. The journey, however, has yet to be revealed," Esther said. She allowed an elder couple to pass before she spoke again. "Enjoy your travels. For it determines the affection in which the terminus will be received." As Esther rested head against Rebekah's, she wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Now we have addressed matters of the heart, what else concerns you? I sense there is more."

She craned her neck to peer at her mother without an unobstructed view. "I'm not sure I grasp your meaning."

"What precipitated such an in-depth reflection of your association with Bonnie? Was it the return of Marcel or the spiteful words Niklaus may have spewed while in possession of Marcel's body?"

Her eyes flared as her entire person turn in her mother's half embrace. "How ever did you know?"

Esther tsked. "Oh, Rebekah. I may be a mother first, but I'm still considered a powerful witch amongst my peers. I always know when what I have created is nigh. No matter what form he decides to inhabit."

"He threatened to dagger me if I revealed his schemes to you," she said, while feeling the beginning twinges of guilt. "A thousand apologies for not being forthcoming, mother. However, you have absolutely no inkling what Nik is truly like when you give yourself over to your rejuvenating slumber."

"Worry not, Rebekah. Niklaus' threats are quite idle. To dagger you in the form he's in now would mean final desiccation for my beloved grandson. No, he's not attended us early to create conflict. Why, the clever boy has a mind to become aquainted with Bonnie on his own terms." She considered Rebekah with a sideways glance. "Did you perchance witness their initial encounter?"

Rebekah lifted her shoulder as she retrained her gaze back on the Lockwood's manicured lawns. "I did and Nik's smitten. Though, he'd rather perish than admit it, he too has fallen victim to the witch's thrall." She paused as her mind drifted back to the encounter. "Yet, he wasn't alone in his infatuation. By the way Bonnie regarded him, one would've thought Niklaus to be the creator of all."

"Blessed be! The prophesized Bennett!" Her mother murmured. A grin stretched across her face and threatened to disappear into her hairline. "All along I knew it to be so. What of the surge of energy earlier this eve, and the memories it ushered forth?"

"Memories?" Rebekah questioned.

"Worry not. They will reveal themselves to you in due time." Esther waved her off with a flap of the hand. "I'm inclined to believe she may have discovered her talisman. And if my assumption holds true, then her quickening will soon be upon us."

Rebekah's heart twisted a little more in her chest. "Congratulations, Mother. I'm indeed overjoyed for _you_."

"For us all, Rebekah. Be overjoyed for us all! Soon you and your siblings' magic will be activated and our family will once again be whole," she said.

* * *

"You're—big sexy—trouble, Mr. Mikaelson. What have you done to little Bonnie Bennett? Her mouth's filthier than a prostitute receiving work on her knees. Please tell me you haven't led her on in anyway?" The brunette inquired as she descended the stairs leading to the room which the Lockwoods once utilized to house slaves. "I honestly couldn't bring myself to do the strut of shame for someone who can take advantage of a misfortunate teenage girl."

"Shh, darling." Kol shoved the tasty Meredith Fell against the wall next to the door of the underground room. Bloodletting and fucking the chit would be much more blissful if he could compel her to be quiet. Alas, it wasn't to be. Apparently the founding families, ingested vervain like Esther guzzled opium and tea. "For it is my plan to fill your undercarriage with an uncompromising muscle that knows not the definition of end. My paramour should be the least of your concerns."

He captured her lips with his and thrust his tongue into her mouth. As his hand crept up her thigh, her moans increased. Yet, another's moans gave him pause. Along with the pungent blended scent of their coupling. He broke the kiss to peer into the window on the door. The sight within not only shriveled his cock, but it severely shifted his gut.

"I fear this chamber is no longer vacant, darling," he whispered when he shifted his gaze back to her. "Make haste to the stables and I'll be along shortly."

Frustration pinched her features. "Why not come now?"

"I'm attempting to safeguard your reputation. Many tongues will wag if we're discovered together after the upheaval we facilitated earlier this evening," he said.

After a moment of visual warfare, she released a theatric sigh. "Fine, but don't be too long, okay? I have to leave for Whitmore early tomorrow."

"Of course," he agreed.

She kissed him, and then swiftly ascended the stairs. Once she'd taken her leave, he opened the door to step within the room. In silence he regarded the horrendous sight before him. The elder Salvatore crouched over the human doppelganger as he took her from behind, while the blonde bit of fluff squatted between their thighs, applying her lips and tongue to whatever crevice or dangly bits she could reach.

"Excuse my interruption, ladies. I'm afraid your scandalous evening has reached a very much anticipated premature conclusion." He allowed the volume of his voice to soar, so that he may be heard over the moans and grunts.

The Forbes' chit shrieked, and then crawled free from the gap of space between Salvatore and the doppelwench's legs. She employed her fingers to rub the corners of her mouth. With averted eyes, she climbed to her feet and staggered towards the exit. The human doppelganger was slower to respond. Her eyes remained glazed and moans ever present as she pursued her end. The elder Salvatore leveled him with an agitated scowl. A taunting smirk perched itself upon his lips as he withdrew his mobile phone from his pocket. When he'd accessed the moving picture feature on his device he pressed the red button marked record.

"My paramour introduced me to several wicked websites," he said, while moving about in pursuit of a superior angle. "Websites which welcome comically repulsive interactions such as the one you lot presently find yourselves involved."

The shock of being recorded snatched the doppelwench from the ledge of oblivion. "Oh my god! Damon he's filming us." She removed herself from Salvatore's trouser snake. After she righted her dress she made a dash for the exit.

"Fear not," he called after her. "I intend to make you infamous, darling."

"Elena," Salvatore yelled as he moved to follow.

Kol stepped in the dullard's path, and then lifted him up by the throat. His pupils dilated as he stared into a pair of abnormally blue irises. "Who ran me through last eve? Was it the ripper?"

"You're asking the wrong question." The plague sore rasped as he clawed at his hand. "You should ask, what the hell I've been sipping on since this morning." A hoarse laugh which sounded more like the rattle of the dying escaped from the crevice of his oral cavity. "That would be vervain. Caught me slipping once shame on you. Twice, then I need my fucking head examined." A choking chortle bubbled from his lips until it turned into a hacking cough. He then settled him with a glare. "What the hell kind super vamp are you anyway? How are you able to compel other vampires?"

"Vervain you say?" Kol narrowed his eyes as the smirk perched on his lips reaffirmed itself. "Well you're in luck, darling. As it were, this evening I have time. So if I have to hang you upside down and drain every drop of that troublesome extract from your person then so be it."

"Don't bother," Salvatore wheezed. "It wasn't Stefan. The new history teacher, moon lights as a hunter. And not a very good one considering the fact you're still undead and as douchey as ever."

"The Saltzman mate? Hmm." He threw Salvatore at the cement wall.

Before the sod had the opportunity to recover, he zipped over and buried half of his forearm in the younger vampire's chest cavity. The slow weak beat of his heart pulsed with stolen life in Kol's fist. "Since you were forthcoming I suppose we can forego the torturing and move on to the dispatching."

"Wait," he huffed as agony feasted on his features. "You can't kill me, moron."

"No?" He asked with a slight shake of the head. "I'm more than certain I can. In verity, I'm rather looking forward to liberating the sorcery which maintains your vampirism."

The younger vampire managed another chest rattling chortle. "Put your dick back in your pants, Mikaelson. You won't be skeeting your load tonight. If you kill me now, then you'll never see the threat that's coming for your precious Bennett Witch."

"Explain," the word slithered from the clench of his teeth as his grip on Salvatore's heart tightened.

"I'm not the only one who's after Bonnie Bennett. But there's a blatant difference between me and the other guy. I need her alive," he rasped.

Kol scoffed. "Kudos for the effort, Salvatore."

"Wait! I can prove it," the younger vampire insisted.

"Then do so."

"About a week ago, a vampire compelled Caroline Forbes to run Bonnie off of Wickery Bridge." Salvatore eyed him for a moment, and then continued. "If I hadn't intervened the Bennett Witch would've totaled more than her Huffy. Truth is, she would've been just another stain on the asphalt." Smugness oozed from his pores. "Give her my apologies about the ankle, will you? Her foot tangled in the handle bars when I knocked her from the bike."

Kol removed his arm from Salvatore's chest. "Do you know the identity of this vampire in question?"

"No." Salvatore reluctantly shook his head. "That's why I started bagging Caroline. There's no person closer to an airhead than the one who's pushing inside of her."

"Humph, I may have use of you yet, darling," Kol invaded the younger vampire's comfort zone. He pressed each of his fists into the cement wall, caging him in. "You have forty-eight hours to bring me a name. Fail me, I'll snatch out your heart and lungs for compensation."

* * *

Elijah slid another piece of crème brulee French toast in Bonnie's mouth. Her answering moan seduced his auditory senses. His studied the back of her. She offered him a premiere view of all the hills, dips, and curves of her. He ran a hand over her bare back. The beautiful golden brown skin there captivated. Even the radiant yellows, oranges, and golds of the rising sun couldn't steal his attention. She was the unknown eighth wonder of the world. Only a blind man could turn away.

He reclined on their bedroom balcony amongst a mass of silken and satin pillows. Bonnie's enchanting form draped his lap vertically. The scene was reminiscent of his harem days in Istanbul. Yet now he didn't require multiple beauties to see to his thirst and lusts. His bewitching sorceress proved well matched for the task. It was peculiar how he never knew what his immortality lacked until he was presented with the one mystical creature he'd rather perish than endure without. Bonnie Bennett was everything in an existence that had only ever offered him nothingness and boredom. Her very being altered him on a fundamental level.

 _I can love you._ Her phenomenal words still ricocheted off the walls of his stupefied mind. How could she? The things he'd done in the name of family should alarm and agitate her witch's nature. Yet she stared at him without judgement. Her acceptance of him was unjustified. And for that alone, he _did_ love her.

"Why does everyone in your family have a strong reaction when I mention Rebekah's old flame Marcel?" She questioned as she angled herself around to face him. "There has to be more to it than him just being your sister's ex." He pushed one of her errant waves from her shoulder and leaned down to press his lips to her collar bone. She snickered. He slightly pulled away to cock an eyebrow at her. Her lashes fluttered as she cast her gaze away. "It tickles."

"Your assessment proves true," he said. His gaze lingered on her lips. Her bottom lip to be precise. "Marcel is my younger brother's adoptive son. As it were, Niklaus saved Marcel from being whipped to death by a foreman on a slave plantation in New Orleans." Unable to control himself, he kissed her full lush lips. The taste of crème brulee danced over his tastes buds. He pulled away to resume his tale. "He was an added member to our family up until the early 1900's. After which we believed him to be dead."

"Niklaus." The name crept from her mouth as if she meant to test the weight of the word on her enamoring lips. "Rebekah's talked about him before. From everything she's told me, I believed him to be a controlling hairy shit hole."

A genuine smile curved his mouth. "Most would agree with your analysis. Yet for every fifty unbecoming characteristics Niklaus possesses, there's a compelling redeemable quality to plead his case."

"Why's he the man apart? From the way Rebekah described him, I would've thought he'd prefer being with you all." She rested the side of her head in the palm of her hand as she gazed up at him.

Birds chirped in the distance as the sun reclaimed its place in the heavens. "He'll be along in a week's time to await your quickening with the rest of the family."

"Will you explain it to me? The quickening," she asked even as her lids began to flutter.

He continued stroking her spine. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything." She said.

"Your quickening will occur when your magic reaches its summit. Once that happens you'll know." He tugged her from his legs into his arms.

"Yeah, but how'll I know?" She questioned as she captured him in her drowsy emerald sights.

He dusted kisses over her forehead. "I'm told by mother that a witch in the throes of her quickening experiences unrest from an overabundance of energy pressing at her core. During a standard quickening the magic will flow from her body to commune with and be blessed by nature. After which time, the powers are returned to the witch."

"Why do I sense that's not going to be the case with me?" She mumbled as her lids slid closed.

"Because your senses are unparalleled. In your unique case, instead of the magic leaving you to greet nature, it will flow into another." He kissed each of her closed lids. "Once your sorcery has been ordained, it'll fuse together with the chosen Officiates' mystical energy. Bonding the two of you together on a magical and soulful level."

"It's Niklaus isn't it? He's the one who'll ordain my magic," She whispered with her eyes still closed, "and officially take my virginity."

A sharp pain tunneled into the undead organ buried within his chest. The dryness at the back of his throat provoked him to swallow. "Yes," he confirmed. The single word devastated his foundation.

* * *

Bonnie stumbled through a forest pitched in black. Was she in Mystic Woods? She couldn't fucking tell. The canopy of branches and leaves prevented moon beams from lighting her way. If she put her hand in front of her face it would've been for nothing, because she couldn't see a damn thing. And to add insult to an utterly fucked situation, the itchy clothing she donned made her want to claw her skin off. Not to mention, the shoes she wore was a shitty joke! Who the hell made shoes without soles? What was the fucking point of them?

The sound of rustling leaves, howling wolves and screeching birds propelled her forward at a faster pace. With no idea in which direction to go, she followed the sound of a man's voice. After umpteen minutes of tripping over roots and colliding with tree trunks, she came across a break in the forest. The rising morning sun bathed the clearing in a kaleidoscope of iridescent light.

In the clearing a large man towered over a small boy on his knees in the mud. The boy looked to be about eight. Both the man and child were dressed like extras from Vikings. She couldn't make face or ass of the fuckery unfolding before her eyes.

A flood of tears streaked through thick smudges of dirt on the boy's face. Two empty pails lay near him turned on their sides. Bonnie's instincts told her not to interrupt. So she ducked behind a tree to prevent herself from being seen for the time being.

"Boy! Due to your inconceivable weakness, a day's worth of milk goes to ruins in the soil." He grabbed the little boy by the hair and forced him to look at him. Her heart swelled along with her anger. "What have you to say in your defense?"

"I-I'm sorry, f-father," the boy stuttered. "The saturated soil slicks the land. I-I misplaced my footing."

"Excuses!" The man roared, and then shoved the child's face into the mud. "They will not serve you well here. You will rise! You will return to the beasts and not take your leave of the cowshed until you replace what you have lost."

"B-but, father," he stammered as he pulled himself back into a sitting position, while wiping mud from his face with the back of his pudgy hand. "Ebba will not produce again until this eve."

When the man raised his hand with the full intention of firing on him, Bonnie hurtled towards the clearing. "What the shit break is wrong with you? He's a child. A fucking child!"

"Ayana?" The man questioned with his hand still raised high ready to strike. His face turned into a mask of unmoving muscles. "What's the meaning of your interference? I have told you many times afore my wife and children are of no concern to you."

"Who the fuck is Ayana, dip shit?" she demanded. Once close enough she positioned herself between the man and child. "You know what, never mind! Real talk is what you're not going to do, and that's put your damn hands on this little boy. What kind of bullshit coward-,"

Before she knew what the hell happened, she took a back hand to the jaw. She landed in the mud next to the child, who moved to cover her body with his smaller one. Did this bitch just fire on her? Searing energy forced its way through her body. Static electricity pricked at the surface of her skin. Pressure swelled inside of her. She was about to motherfucking blow!

"Father, no! Can you not perceive she is not Ayana?" The little boy pleaded.

The man slung the boy off of her. "Away with you and the nonsense you speak. Your sightedness is as feeble as you are weak."

"I told you not to touch him," she bellowed.

A surge of magic tore from the palms of her hands. The powerful force slammed into the man. A mere fraction of a second later, the man's body hurtled through the air until he collided with a tree. Not wasting time to understand what the hell happened, she grabbed the little boy by the hand and began to run. For several minutes they ran until she felt they were a safe distance away.

"Are you alright?" Bonnie turned and kneeled before him. She ran her hands over his arms and legs. "Is anything sprained or broken? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Cupping his face in her palms, she scanned his face.

He stared back at her with the widest, clearest, blue eyes she'd ever seen. "Hos-pit-tal?" The word came out broken and questioning.

"Hell yeah, hospital! Your dad was on some Joe Jackson and Joan Crawford type mess," she said. How could the dirty dick hole lift his hand to beat an innocent child? Hell, she thought she'd been screwed raw and dry in the parents' department. "This isn't the first time he's acted like a whopper sized bully is it? You probably have healing bruises and fractures all over your body."

Intelligence shined more brilliant than spot lights from his eye sockets. "You're a witch. Mother says you can always tell by one's aura. I've never beheld an essence as vivid as yours, though. It's even brighter than Ayana's," he said as his gaze skipped over her. One of his dirty little hands touched her hair. "Are you a Bennett Witch as well? You are comely enough to be a Bennett." A bashful smile twisted his scarlet lips.

Several mournful howls echoed around her. Her gaze darted around the dim forest. "Unholy fuckery…wolves! When the shit break did Mystic fall get wolves? Come on we have to move."

"Worry not, little witch. The wolves are returning to their human state." His hand clasped hers. "You're not in peril. My word is yours." The earnestness in his voice almost calmed her fears. Almost.

"Yeah well, I'd rather be safe than breakfast. Now come on," she said, rising and tugging him after her. His limp slowed her down. "You _are_ hurt!" The statement leapt from her lips as an accusation.

She crouched down and allowed him to slip his arm around her shoulders. Once she bore most of his weight, she helped him hobble over to a massive sized tree that had to have been around since T-Rexes roamed the earth. When he sat and his back rested against the trunk of the tree, she looked at his ankle. The flesh around the joint was bright red and hot to the touch.

"Well I'm not sure if it's broken, but I'm more than positive you won't get far on that thing." What the hell was she going to do? She couldn't leave him ass out to fend for himself, but she couldn't hang around and let them get chewed on by wolves either. There was nothing left to do. She had to get to the highway and flag down help.

Bonnie rose to claim a large rock from a few paces away. She stooped and lifted the stone. For a few moments, she staggered under its weight but managed to get it over to him. She then yanked off the shawl type covering wrapped around her shoulders. After folding the wooly fabric in a tight roll she put it on the rock, and then carefully rested his ankle on the makeshift pillow.

"There, how's that feel?" She questioned as each of her hands dusted the other.

A closed lipped smile shifted his mouth. "Much improved. You have my gratitude, little witch."

"Little Witch? Why do you insist on calling me that? I'm bigger than you," she said.

A wide grin which displayed an irresistible set of dimples charmed his mouth. "Yes, but not for long. However, my gratitude is still yours to claim, _Little Witch_."

She rolled her eyes. "Thank me when I bring back help. Now sit here and don't move. I'm going to the highway to flag down someone."

"Many apologies, for in this I cannot appease. If you insist on wandering about the forest, then you will require an escort." He moved to rise and she placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place.

"What part of don't move do I need to repeat?" Bonnie snapped. The kid was seriously twerking her damn nerves. "I've lived here all my life and know these woods better than my name. Besides, I'm only going to the highway just over that hill there." She repositioned her shawl under his ankle. "I'll only be gone for few minutes." For a reason lost to her, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Now stay put, okay?"

A rosy color blossomed under the surface of his dirt streaked cheeks. He nodded once as he averted his gaze to his hands nestled in his lap. "I'll await your return here," he muttered.

Without wasting anymore damn time, she climbed to her feet and raced towards the hill which lead to the highway. Minutes later she stood at the top feeling confused as shit. Where the donkey was the mother fucking highway? The only thing she found was more damn trees! She glanced around and for the first time since she'd arrived in Mother Nature's ass crack, she realized the tree patterns were all wrong. Even the natural landmarks appeared a little out of place and some altogether missing.

Not sure of what else to do, Bonnie headed back to the little boy to brainstorm another plan. Only when she finally made it back, he was no longer there. Fuckery, fucking, fuck! She wasn't even gone that long. Did his father find him? She tore through the woods, hoping to stumble upon him and his abuser.

An hour or so after being mauled by thorny switches she gave up and made her way back to the tree. All she could hope was that the boy had returned. When she made it back what she found instead was a guy and tween fucking off like kindergarteners. The one who appeared to be a few years her senior, had shoulder length blonde hair. The other had brunette hair the same shade as Elijah and Kol's. The ends grazed the base of his neck. He looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen. Both were dressed as serfs from the, Middle Ages. They play fought with wooden swords, joking and laughing among themselves. Maybe they'd seen the little boy. She sped walked over to them.

"Hey, did either of you happen to see a little dirty faced blonde boy limping around here? I went to find help and when I came back he was gone," she rambled as the familiar tingle of attraction attacked her lower abdomen. Her gaze crept to the blonde. Fuck he was beautiful! And his eyes…they looked so familiar.

Instead of answering, the bang worthy guy stared at her like she'd just two stepped across an ocean of water. "Little Witch?" His whispered acknowledgement barely met her ears, but barely and didn't was two different damn things. The name snatched her off guard.

She moved closer. "You _have_ seen him." Her gaze fell to the scrap of cheap material hanging from his belt. It almost looked like the fabric from her shawl. A bit more worn and threadbare but still the same. "Just where the hell did you get that." She tugged the cloth free of his belt and held up to his face. "Did you take this from him? Where is he?"

"Are you and this soiled mouth wench aquainted?" the younger boy questioned as he eyed her with a shit ton of curiosity. "Her aura is blinding to be sure, Niklaus." Niklaus? Bonnie blanked. When did that name become common? "Is Tatia aware of your association with this delectable witch?" The devilish glint in the boy's eyes reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite put her double clickers on it.

"Away with you, Henrik," he said, waving a distracted hand in the direction of the clearing. "Mother awaits you at the stables. She's quite ireful you neglected your tasks to pursue your fancies. Father will arrive any rising or setting now."

"Very well, however, once I complete my labors our match will resume." He nodded his head at her, before racing in the direction of the clearing.

She returned her gaze to Niklaus, only to find him watching her. Despite the late morning chill every piece and part of her burned as if she stood in the center of a flame. The way he stared at her tossed her mind. Those clear blue eyes had imprinted themselves on her brain and robbed her mental of even the most simple train of thought.

She shook her head to reignite her focus. "I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you and he were doing with those wooden swords. It's just, the kid's hurt his ankle. I'm scared he might've fallen in a hole or something bat shit like that."

"The boy did not greet his end at the bottom of hole," Niklaus said. His voice barely cleared the threshold of not being considered as a whisper. "Shortly after you sought your leave his mother came to collect him."

"So he's safe?" A two hundred ton weight fell from her chest and shoulders.

Niklaus bobbed his head and the ends of his silky blond locks moved back and forth over his shoulders. "You enlighten me, Little Witch. Do I appear unharmed and safe?"

Her gaze skimmed over him. "Yeah, I mean you look fine, but what of the boy? His dad's an abusive dick who probably beat the filling out of his ass based on some shit I did. I just need to put eyes on him, just to make sure he's okay."

"And at present you are indeed feasting your lovely emerald gaze upon the boy who you fought so admirably for fourteen summers passed." His words paralyzed her brain and refused to compute. Fourteen summers passed…did he mean years? He waved his hand at the tree. "Please sit and allow me to explain."

Fatigue descended on her without warning. Too mentally disconcerted and physically exhausted to remain upright she sat in the same spot she'd place the boy earlier that morning. "When you say I helped you fourteen summers ago, are you referring to years?"

"I refer to the passing of time. Fourteen summers have come and gone since I saw you last," he said. Confusion ruffled the skin between his brows.

"Bullshit," she shook her head. "I've never seen you before. I'd remember meeting a guy who looks like you and gets off on cosplaying in the woods with twinks."

His eyes flared. "Your speech is quite colorful for a maiden."

"Hmph, my speech is quite colorful for Richard Pryor," she said, settling her back against the tree, before arranging her ridiculously long skirts about her ankles. "Now explain to me what's going on."

"As I stated afore," he began as he sat next to her, "fourteen summers ago you spared me a thrashing by the hands of my father. After which, I fled with you into the forest and when you discovered I'd injured my joint you placed me under this White Oak tree, before disappearing over that hill there. And had my mother not come to retrieve me I would've waited a thousand summers for your reappearance."

"Um," she attempted to pull herself to her feet. He placed a hand on her lap, and then quickly removed it. Pink tinged his cheeks as he looked away. The gesture and his posture reminded her of the boy's. And his eyes...could he…no! She'd have to be a shit for brains moron to believe such a thing. "W-were you spying on us? You know they may not uphold homicide laws around these parts, but Sherriff Forbes still earns her bacon when it comes to stalking and kidnapping. So you'd better open that twat licker of yours and tell me what you did with that boy."

A scowl darkened his golden bright features. "You believe me to have spoken falsely." He arched a brow.

"Falsely? Your story isn't just false, but it's full of cracks, flaws, and an added dash of crazy. Hell, Tolkien and Rowling wouldn't touch that shoddy plot line with George R.R. Martin's typewriter," she said. Why the hell was she tolerating Mr. Looney Tunes?

"You pressed a kiss upon my forehead. You then said you would be back in a minute and to stay put," He insisted. His words vacated his lips, slow and measured.

Her head swung from side to side. "You expect for me to believe you're the little boy I left here a few hours ago?" She knew she didn't know everything about magic, but time acceleration seemed like a fucking stretch.

"I'm the boy you abandoned fourteen summers ago. The same boy who returned to this very tree every rising for fourteen summers to await your return." His brows rose and danced just beneath his hairline. He paused, and then continued in a softer voice. "Ayana was right, Fate did betray time to bring you back to me. You haven't aged a rising since last we met."

"Hold up, let's rewind it back to you believing the year is now 2023," she said.

His eyes flared. "2023? That's ludicrous, Little Witch. It is in the spring of our goddess nine hundred-nine and ninety."

"999! Oh you're taking this roleplay thing on a trip around the damn world!" She wanted to slap herself for even going back and forth with a lunatic of his caliber.

"Do you hail from two thousand-three and twenty? Are you here from an impending summer, then?" Sparks of interest blasted his already glowing features. "You should permit me to bring you to Ayana. She'll be able to discern your predicament more adequately than I."

She glanced around and a shit ton of realization blew the lid off of her closed mind. Like the disappearing highway, missing landmarks, and explosion of trees. There was fucking overgrowth everywhere minus, Mystic Falls' Cemetery. What if she did manage to knock herself back over a thousand years into the past? Sure Elijah had blown her back out, but this was insane. Yet since the Mikaelson's had returned, the word impossible was fast on its way to becoming an urban legend.

"Nope," she climbed to her feet. "This is straight nut bag territory."

She struck out running towards the hill which led to the highway. Maybe she'd somehow missed it earlier or either ran up the wrong hill. Once again when she reached the top, the same grassy scenery from before greeted her. She brought her hands to her head and grabbed a fist full of roots. This couldn't be happening! A vibration of a scream tickled the back of her throat. She swallowed in hopes of pushing it back down. If she allowed herself to let loose something told her she'd level that entire fucking forest. Bears, wolves, and mountain lions be damned.

Corded muscles encircled her from behind. The scent of sweat, rich soil and something delectably more invaded her nostrils. "All is well, Little Witch. You have my word. We'll go and see Ayana. We'll know how to proceed from this venture soon enough."

He spun her around in his arms, and then cupped her face in his hands. The look in his eyes made her want to push every last one of her doubts to the side and let it all ride on him. She could tell he was the type people counted on to keep things running. Relief flooded her and sparked a wild fire of other notions she'd attempted to ignore since she stumbled upon him and Henrik.

Without really comprehending why, she leaned forward and captured his cherry colored mouth with hers. At first his lips didn't give under the weight of hers. His hands fell from her face and remained stiff at his sides. Yet, his inaction didn't pump breaks on her incompetent seduction. His firm grip on control only fueled the aching need which had taken root deep in the center of her abdomen. So in answer to the pounding ache five seconds from blowing her apart, she slipped her tongue in his mouth. The inner lining of his oral cavity tasted like black berries. She moaned her approval. His arms finally wrapped around her to drag her closer as tongue shoved, thrust, and wrestled with hers in an attempt to usurp the lead. Her hands discovered the silken strands of his hair. The sleek texture felt a lot like Rebekah's as the strands slipped through her fingers.

"Niklaus!" A voice which sounded a lot like Elena's hoarse alto introduced shame to her boldness. "What is the meaning of this dalliance?"

Bonnie broke the kiss to commit death by sight. Expecting to see Elena, she nearly regurgitated her heart when her harassed stare not only found her ex bestie, but Elijah too. "Elijah?" She broke free of Niklaus' embrace and stumbled backwards. "I-I…"

"You're aquainted with this trollop as well, Elijah," Elena demanded, all while looking peasant sheik.

The familiar heat in Elijah's mahogany brown eyes still seared her to the marrow, but he now stared at her as if he didn't know her. Bonnie took another step backwards and the bottom of her ineffective shoes met air instead of solid ground. She toppled backwards down the hill. Heels over ass and head, she tumbled until she hit the cushioned grass surface of the ground. Slowly, she pulled herself into a sitting position. Aside from the pain in her cakes and pride nothing seemed injured. After taking a moment to pull it together, she stood. When the bottom of her feet reunited with firm ground, she noticed the forest had grown darker. A frown scrunched her face. How long had she been falling?

Loud shouts and a glow came from the direction of the tree she'd left moments before. With nowhere else to go, she ran towards the screams and muted light. When she arrived on the scene, Niklaus lay on the forest floor. His body contorted in an abnormal angle while the child abuser and Elijah looked on.

Blood saturated the entire front of Niklaus, while a mangled neck corpse lay a few paces away.

"Father it hurts!" Niklaus wailed.

"Brother," Elijah tried to go to him, but the abuser of children and puppies grabbed the noble brother to stop him from going to Niklaus' aid.

Disgust warped the asshole's already cruel features. "Leave it, boy. He's a beast." He spit. "An abomination! Come."

Their so called father tugged Elijah away and left Niklaus to suffer alone. When they disappeared from sight, she went to his side. "Niklaus, what happened?" She pushed his hair from his face.

"Little Witch?" Relief discharged some of the tension in his facial muscles. "I knew you would come."

"You were just at the top of the hill. How'd this happen?" Events had flipped light years beyond her scope of understanding. She ran her hands over his body and it appeared to somewhat soothe him.

"My mother and father has cursed me. I'm no longer above reproach, I've killed my mate Evar. The ripping apart of my person is vengeance sent down by the goddess herself." He cried out in agony. "They've turned us all into monsters, save Henrik." A wave of agony rippled through his features.

"When did they have time, I just left you at the top of the hill." Her mind refused to move pass the supposed to be into the realm of what was.

He reached out and touched her cheek. A failed smile provoked his lips to tremble. "That was two summers pass, Little Witch."

"N-no!" The denial left her mouth automatically even as she eyeballed the proof in his slightly aged features. His hair also now fell pass his shoulders. "But-,"

"I'm afraid." he grunted through the pain. "And I know you may think me weak, but I'd rather be debased in your sight as long as you are beheld in mine. Please don't abandon me again."

"I won't, Niklaus." Bonnie sat next to him with her back to the tree and dead body. She resumed stroking his hair. "I'm here no matter what, I promise." As she'd done that morning, she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his forehead. She now knew beyond sanity and reason he was the little boy she'd saved earlier that morning.

For the next several hours, Bonnie watched Niklaus' bones break and realign themselves. If she'd been thinking with her brain instead of the jones that had climbed into her heart, she would've ran for her life like every other sane person in the world. Yet, there was something about him that forced her brain out of order. So even if being there for him slayed her, then so fucking be it. She refused to leave him to suffer alone. He deserved way more than to be forgotten.

After hearing every bone in his body snap, crackle, and pop, tuffs of gold and white fur sprouted from his skin. His beautiful mouth elongated into a snout. Razor sharp teeth packed themselves into his mouth. At the conclusion of his transformation a majestic wolf stood before. She was out—motherfucking—done by what she witnessed. Hell, her chin and eyes lay somewhere in the damn grass. The crazy thing was though, aside from being stunned out her rabid ass mind, she couldn't bring herself to be scared of him.

"Come here, Niklaus." She reached out a hand to him. He dropped his head and shied away. "It's okay, I know you won't hurt me." After a moment of deliberation, he trotted over to her and curled up next her. He released a mournful whimper, and then dropped his head in her lap. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." She whispered. "No matter what form you're in you'll always be beautiful to me. Everything is going to be fine. I'm a witch and you're wolf. I know its sheer madness, but we're going to figure out all of this fuckery…together. I promise." He raised his head and licked her face.

Bonnie smiled and rested her head against their tree. She ran her fingers through his fur. Some areas was coarse, while other patches felt soft to the pads of her fingers. As she stroked him her lids became heavy. She allowed them to close. After the damn day she had a wink or two of sleep was in order. Minutes later however, the breaking loose of hell snatched her eyes wide. Screams decimated the silent night and Niklaus was nowhere to be found.

She heaved herself off the ground and ran in the direction of the screeches and wails. The cries led her back to the clearing she stumbled upon earlier that morning. Niklaus sagged with his arms stretched wide. Each of his wrists strapped to wooden posts on either side of him. His shirt was ripped open to expose his bare chest. The abusive prick masquerading as father stood in front of him with the sharp end of wooden spike pressed to the center of his pecs.

"It is done, Mikael. Now free Niklaus." A sobbing Esther forced Bonnie to take step back. Although she'd come to the conclusion of Niklaus' identity when she saw Elijah, seeing the ancient witch still gave her pause. The lady before her didn't have the sophistication or grooming of the Esther from her time period, but the mystical energy pouring from her was legit.

"Insufficient, you unfaithful whore! I will not suffer you dog's bastard a rising longer!" The dick hole roared. He raised the hand which clasped the stake with the sole ill intention of slamming it in Niklaus' chest.

Wrong fucking answer! The pressure which had built within her since the Mikaelsons returned exploded from the palms of her hands. Potent aquamarine energy slammed into Mikael. The crunching and grinding noise that sounded off led her to believe his bones had turned to dust on impact. His skin folded in on itself and burst into aquamarine flames. Gushes of air whipped around them. Lightening arced overhead as thunder rocked the ground.

"Niklaus!" Another burst of energy, and the ties on his wrist snapped free. His body slumped. She raced over and caught him before his head slapped the ground. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Father forced mother to bind my wolf. My magic is now lost to me as well," He rasped before his eyes rolled closed. "Hope no longer lights my path. Only darkness lies ahead for me. I'm truly dead now."

"You're wrong! Our path is what we fucking make it," she cradled his face in her hands. "And one day I'll undo the wrong which has been done to you." She kissed his forehead. "I'll always stand for you, Niklaus. I promise."

A sob shoved its way free of her mouth. Someone rested a palm on her shoulder. Warmth resonated throughout her body. An overwhelming feeling of trust dropped her guard. Energy shot from her center to circulate beneath the palm on her shoulder. Magic pulsed from the foreign hand to answer the call of her sorcery. Bonnie raised her gaze. An older woman wearing all of her thoughts on her face, stared back. Her eyes bulged with wisdom way beyond their years.

"Your purpose for being here is not complete. There's still something more left to be done," she said.

Bonnie cast her gaze to the ground. Her stare collided with the wood Mikael had used to threaten Niklaus. "Our tree," she murmured.

"Your tree," the woman agreed. Her beautiful chocolate brown skin gleamed in the light of the aquamarine flames.

She tore her eyes away to regard the rest of the Mikaelsons in the yard. They all stared at her with varying looks on their faces. Although, emotion sparked each of there expressions, it gutted her because none of those feelings were tethered to anything other than awe. Neither one of them knew her from the drunk holding down the sidewalk in front of the Grille.

"Finn, Henrik, grab Niklaus and take him into your, um…is that a fucking hut?" She shook her head dismissing the trifeness of their early way of life. Her glance swung to Rebekah. "Watch over him for me, Bek's." The blonde original's brows rose, while her head bobbed in a nod.

"Elijah and Toots," she demanded. "Grab all of the liquor you can find and follow me." Her gaze then swung to the lump of flesh still burning in the center of the clearing.

"Be at ease. I'll see to my dear husband," Esther gave her a teary smile.

"Pardon me, what is this liquor of which you speak?" Elijah stepped closer to her when Finn and Henrik lifted Niklaus from her lap.

"Uh, whatever you drink that gets you drunk off your ass."

The older witch who felt like family tsked. "Your father returned with barrels of ale from his last raid. Those shall do well for the task. I'll come along. Our combined Bennett magic will ensure the complete destruction of the White Oak Tree."

* * *

Bonnie's eyes snapped open. She sat straight up in bed. Somehow the ass ugly talisman had found its way back to her hands. She frowned as her gaze darted about her surroundings. The familiar scenery of the master bedroom in the old witches' mansion gave birth to an unwanted field of vision. How did she get back? Where was Niklaus? What about their tree? Questions jammed themselves into her brain until the inquiries became no more than jabbering nonsense. Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, but when she turned there was nothing there.

"Are you alright, Bonnie?" Elijah sat up next to her.

"Yeah." She nodded as she continued staring in the darkened corner of the room. "I was dreaming and it took me a minute to recognize my surroundings. Sorry if I woke you."

"There's no cause to apologize," he tugged her in his arms and cuddled her closer to his chest. "Would you like breakfast?"

"No, you wore me out. I'd rather rest a little longer," she said. "Something tells me I'm going to need it."

"As you wish," he kissed her temple.

"Um, Elijah?" She called.

"Yes?"

She craned her neck to look up at him. "When the hell were you all going to tell me about werewolves?"

* * *

**A/N: Okay there you have it folks. If you've managed to make it this far thank you so much for taking the time to do so. As always if you're feeling this WIP don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! Until next time...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:*Warning there are lemons ahead. Turn back if you’re not a fan of the juicy sweet-sour!* Here’s another one, Bennett Fandom. I’ve written and deleted this update so many times I probably could take to the stage and recite every line of it by heart! But enough of my creative melt down. Let’s just get into it…

Bonnie waited for Finn in the yellow tea room. For forty-five minutes she'd waited for Finn in the fucking yellow tea room! As requested she'd been prompt. She'd even torn herself from one of her newest favorite things to do…Elijah! So where the shit break was he? Whatever, was going down between them needed to happen ASAP. She promised Jeremy she'd meet him in Mystic Woods in a few hours for another ounce of, Rocket Man, 'shrooms and a persuasive essay.

Apart from the deal, she wanted to explore the woods while the rays from the sun still lit the way. She planned to retrace her steps to see if her dream had been more than a dream. Secretly, she hoped it'd somehow lead her back to Niklaus. How fucked to the side was she? Every inch of her ached for a reunion with a possible figment of her twisted imagination. Those wide clear blues eyes—without a hint of deception to the first—owned her. They consumed her. Not one of her thoughts would line up for longer than sixty seconds if they didn't feature him.

"Why aren't you kneeling?" Finn's voice snatched her from her unfolding obsession. She opened her mouth to make up an excuse to skip out on whatever he had planned, only to have him shut her down. "Follow me." He spun on his heel and marched out of the room.

Bonnie followed him from the room, and then trailed him down the hall. They moved in discontented silence. Neither squandered even a word on meaningless chitchat. After several minutes of walking and ear pounding quietness he stopped in front of a wall in the west hallway. The solid partition had a cherry oak paneled sectioning which disrupted the flow of the entire wall lining the hall. Finn removed a key fob from his pocket. When he pressed a button on the device the paneling slid away to reveal the inner compartment of an elevator.

"You may enter," he said to her in a quiet but firm tone.

Not risking being told twice, she stepped on the elevator. He followed, and then pressed a button marked S on the wall. As the elevator descended the silence continued to knock louder than any Beatz by Dre. Finn's silent condemnation sucked all of the air from the tiny space. By the time the doors slid open her nerves had yanked her inside out. All the potential would be's and could be's swirling around in her head ate away most of her calm until she tweaked harder than Jeremy after two blunts of Rocket Man.

Once they exited the elevator Bonnie continued to trail Finn through the maze of corridors that made up the sub-level of the mansion. Several turns later they stood in front of a steel door that appeared to conceal the place where Jigsaw readied his victims for their final game. Although the thought provoked her heart to pump fear by the pint, her pop rocker gushed liquid heat by the gallon. She wasn't sure what erotic role play Finn had in mind, but she was a little less than positive she was there for the freak shit.

She waited as Finn pressed in a series of patterns into the keypad next to the door. The metal barrier swung open. He entered first, and then hurled a directing glare at her over his shoulder when he noticed she still lingered on the opposite side of the threshold.

Once again Bonnie found herself at the proverbial crossroad. Should she go in and submit to whatever disturbing act he had instore for her or should she turn and walk away? A sigh raised and dropped her chest. She'd be a damn fool to try and ignore the nagging at the back of her mind when it came to him. Fact was, the elder Mikaelson intrigued her almost more than his younger siblings. If she was to ever truly know him on the same level as the others she had to be willing to step off the ledge and accept what came next. After a moment of deliberation curiosity nudged her feet forward.

Once inside her heart dodged several beats. The room was massive. His private space had to extend under at least half of the mansion. Bonnie scanned her surroundings as her gut flipped and bubbled. What the shit break had she gotten herself into? She'd known Finn had a few kinks, but as she gazed around she came to a fast conclusion he just may very well be the god of pervy.

A bank of televisions lined one wall. Each of the screens displayed various rooms in the mansion and pool bungalows. Her lungs refused to accept air as a memory of her and Kol's first play session singed the walls of her mind. Had Finn actually witnessed her take down by the hands and tongue of his baby brother?

Stunned way past the point of obvious emotions, her gaze skipped to the next screen. Her heart froze mid-beat. The monitor displayed Rebekah's bathroom. The wet and wild fun she'd experienced there automatically replayed itself in her head. Unholy fuckery! Finn had managed to turn her into a got damned porn vixen! Her eyes flicked back to him. He returned her gaze with an undaunted stare. His severely rigid expression lacked even a hint of shame.

"You've been s-spying on me," she uttered.

Instead of feeling violated, a tingling thrill crept down her spine. Warmth bloomed in her lower abdomen. Intrigue sparked her mental. She knew she should be pissed, but she couldn't move beyond being turned on by the fact he'd witnessed every moment of pleasure she'd ever encountered within the walls of Mikaelson House.

The soles of her shoes shuffled across the limestone floor as she made her way further into the room. Her gaze left the televisions to move over the space in its entirety. A king sized mattress that fit inside of a wooden base sat in the center of the open space covered in nothing but a black leather fitted sheet. The ceiling above the bed donned a large mirror identical to the one on the opposing wall. Context clues whispered naughty things about the bed serving a purpose which had absolutely nothing to do with sleeping.

Different, um…toys lined another stone wall. And just right of the whips, ball gags, and what appeared to be nipple clamps, a two hundred foot large link chain hung suspended from the overhead. The excess of the potential restraint was piled behind a wooden throne that sat on an elevated cherry wood platform. Low lit torches dangled from the ceiling and glowed from strategic placements within the wood paneled and stone walls, giving the underground hideaway a dim ghostly glimmer.

The far side of the room housed a toilet, Jacuzzi sized whirlpool bath, and a glass stall shower. There were no dividing walls to conceal the area from prying eyes. This led Bonnie to believe Finn didn't give a single fuck about privacy. Which didn't surprise her. Judging by his televised surveillance of almost every room in Mikaelson House, he clearly held no respect for the sanctity of clandestineness. Yet the items on his wall of hurt made it Windex clear he had extreme reverence for pain when accompanied with pleasure. Hell, the entire sub-level set up gave off major medieval torture room vibes.

"Walk over to the hearth, turn to face me, and then remove your shirt," Finn's voice derailed her train of thought.

Bonnie stumbled over air. "Damn, I can't have a snack or mild conversation first? You just want to get right to it, huh." She sputtered.

Finn continued to watch her without mumbling a sound. After a moment of the visual back and forth, she crossed the room and followed his instructions order for order. Once her t-shirt rested a few paces to the left on the floor, she lifted her chin. Instead of rising to her silent challenge his bored eyes crept over her chest in a slow as shit review.

"Now discard your brassiere," Finn said, while moving forward until he stood a few steps from her.

Bonnie reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Reluctantly, she allowed the stiff cotton fabric to slide down her arms and drop to her feet. She kicked the under garment towards her shirt. Her fingers then went for the button on her jean shorts.

"Remove your hands from the fastener on your trousers," his command left his lips in a normal tone, but every letter of each word oozed reprimand from the seams.

She snatched her fingers from the button as if the metal had singed the pads of her digits. After a full five minutes of scrutinizing her breasts his shrewd stare rose to reclaim her face.

"Unbutton your trousers, remove them along with your knickers," he instructed.

Defiance rode her hard and fast. Who the fuck did he take her for, an empty headed stripper with a Simon says complex? Please! She hated all three of Mystic Falls' stop signs for attempting to tell her what the hell to do. So what the hell did she look like running him her control?

Bonnie threw up her middle finger to obedience and glared holes through Finn. Several minutes slipped by, before she realized he had time she didn't. Attempting to out wait a vampire was the equivalent of fire picking a fight with water. The move would be foolish, fucking detrimental, and pointless. So instead, she packed away her anger and ego. After a moment of wrestling with her bossy nature, she then removed her shorts and underwear as directed. Grudgingly, she cast them to the side with the benefit of several after thoughts. Once she'd stripped bare ass she then met his gaze.

The muscle in his jaw twitched as he considered her. "Now place yourself in the center of the room, face away from me, kneel, and lift your hair free of you neck."

This time Bonnie followed instructions. Being naked before him, while he remained fully clothed made her feel exposed and vulnerable. When her knees met the limestone floor, she gathered her hair and placed it on the top of her head. A few seconds later Finn fastened a leather choker around her neck. The accessory reminded her of a damn dog collar.

After he placed the choker around her neck, he moved away to stand to the side. "Firstly, I'll address the guidelines."

"What," Bonnie's glare snapped to him. Her eyes crossed on impact. The fucking riding crop was back.

"Guideline number one; you will not speak unless, you're addressed directly, raise your hand to be granted permission, or need to employ your safe word which will be pumpernickel," he said as he caressed her cheek with the tasseled end of the riding crop. "Guideline number two; your eyes will remain straight ahead unless otherwise instructed." He utilized the end of the crop to nudge her face in a forward direction.

Bonnie's eyes narrowed, before she retrained them on the stone wall in front of her. She was one more _guideline_ away from telling him what he could do with his guidelines.

"Guideline number three," she rolled her eyes, "while in the Vault you are to address me as Master Mikaelson. Outside of these walls you may refer to me as Lord Mikaelson or either my lord." He allowed the crop to drift from her cheek to graze the side of her neck. "Guideline number four; while within the walls of the Vault you are to don your collar with no exceptions." So it was a fucking collar! "At the conclusion of my lessons I will remove it before your departure. However, under no circumstances are you ever permitted to handle the collar. To do so will result in immediate corrective action."

So what, now she's on the same level as a dog? Rebekah adored her, Kol lusted for every inch of her and Elijah had not only worshiped her within an inch of her being, but he'd also romanced her. Who the hell was Finn to collar her? He should be the one on his knees seeking approval from her, not the other way around.

She should tell him to kiss her ass and just leave…no! She needed Finn to adore her, lust for her, and worship her too. Motherfuck her daddy issues! Because of those bullshit shortcomings she required Finn's praise, more than she needed her pride.

"Guideline number five; within the walls of the Vault, you're to kneel until I convey otherwise." The crop drifted from her neck to her collar bone. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a laugh. "Guideline number six; within the walls of the Vault profaned words will not be tolerated. Which ushers us to guideline number seven. Within these walls you'll present yourself in a fashion that is pleasing to my sight, hearing, taste, and sense of smell."

Well fucking, fuckery, fuck!

"Guideline number eight; within these walls you'll not touch me or enter my bed without permission." The tasseled end of the crop teased one of her nipples. A gasp interrupted the flow of air to her lungs for a full three seconds. "Guideline number nine; within and outside of these walls you will not practice deceptive behavior or speak deliberate falsehoods to me or my mother."

One shoulder bobbed in a shrug. Honesty was not a problem for her. In fact it was the only one of his rules that didn't make her want to kick him in the sand bags.

"Guideline number ten; the only item you will don within the Vault is your collar. Any other article of clothing is not permitted unless I state otherwise and even then said clothing will be provided by me." The riding crop blazed a trail down her abdomen and over her midsection. "The guidelines I've addressed are the core rules of the Vault. If you should defy any of these guidelines in mind or body you are required to inform me immediately and plead for my pardon." The crop slipped between the lips of her pop rocker. She nearly drooled when the wired length made contact with her pearl. "Any violation of these edicts will be strictly enforced and you will accept whatever correction or penance I deem fitting for any offense against the guidelines you may commit." At a fast pace he continued to flick the length of the crop over her clit. The pinnacle of her end loomed just couple of hip sways away. "Are we in agreement?"

Her head bobbed. "Y-yes, master M-Mikaelson," she stuttered.

Right before she reached a sky scraping climax, he withdrew the riding crop from her pop rocker. "You should be aware, within these wall I am the sole owner of your orgasms." He slapped his open palm with the tasseled end of the crop. "For each one of them you will be required to plead your case. And should you be granted a release then you are to express just gratitude for every deathless demise you suffer."

Pissed way beyond normal calming tactics, she raised her hand. After a minute of holding the appendage up like an idiot he finally acknowledged her, "You may speak, Miss Bennett."

"Um, may I have the orgasm you just snatched back?" She questioned in a voice drenched with scorn and straight attitude.

"No you may not!" He answered. Her heart dropped to her ankle. No? "Since entering the Vault, you've defied me three times. It is my judgement that at present you are undeserving of a release. Pleasure must be given to be gained. Now rise."

Bonnie rediscovered her footing and forced herself to remain in the dungeon of denied orgasms despite the overwhelming urge she felt to kick rocks.

Finn strolled closer to her. For several minutes his gaze moved over her. After he'd eyeballed his fill, he reached up and slipped his hands into her hair. The pads of his fingers began to massage her scalp. Her eyes rolled closed. Each stroke stimulated every pleasure center in her body. Prickles of ecstasy rippled from her scalp, undulated through the nerves of her neck to surge down her spine.

"Ooooh," she moaned.

His hands left her scalp to massage their way down her neck and over her shoulders. The pads of his fingers skimmed her collar bones and she snickered. Ignoring her slip in protocol, his appendages continued to travel until they palmed her breasts. When he began to knead them and manipulate her nipples with his thumbs, her pop rocker sprung a leak. Her eyelids snapped open in time to see Finn's nostrils twitch, and then flare as the sharp points of his fangs peeped from beneath the bottom of his upper lip.

Too soon his hands left her breasts and glided over her abdomen. Moments later he slipped two fingers between her nether lips. Her eyes once again slipped closed. His digits grazed her clit before pressing themselves into the intimate entrance of her body. Phantom spasms shook to life at the very center of her gushing core. An entire light show slaughtered the darkness behind her lids as she ground her pop rocker into the heel of his hand. A barrage of moans and gasps exhausted her vocal chords.

"Open your eyes and look at me," he demanded. His tone calm and undisturbed.

Her eyes popped open to take possession of his blue-green gaze. While his diagnostic stare stalked each one of her facial changes, she memorized the ingenious curve and sharp edges of his striking features. As his fingers continued to play in the shallow waters of her overflowing channel, her fingertips brushed the edges of a hellified conclusion.

The walls of her pop rocker began to quake. Holy shit balls! She was so fucking close. She dropped her head back to regard the ceiling as she continuously slammed her pearl tongue into his cupped palm. However, a second before she had the chance to step off the ledge of a mind blowing peak, Finn removed his hand and backed away from her.

"We will reconvene on Wednesday in the yellow tea room after your academic discussions," he said, taking another step back. "After you wash yourself you may replace your clothing on your person. Once you have completed those tasks you are liberated to seek your leave."

Finn then zipped over to the wall that held the televisions and gave his attention over to the screens. While Bonnie could do no more than watch his back as one single thought burned to hell in her mind... _exactly how much magic would it take to butcher an original vampire?_

* * *

Greta packed away the last of the ingredients required to break the sun and moon curse. She shut the trunk, and then murmured an uncloaking chant. Klaus' coffin appeared in the center of her altar room. She walked to the casket and lifted the lid. A smile touched her lips. Gazing down at the original's peaceful expression calmed some of her doubts and the sense of foreboding which stalked her peace of mind. _Some_ , however, being the operative word. For a majority of her witch's instincts still flashed bright red hazard signs before her third eye. The ominous warnings spelled irrevocable changes on the impending horizon. Changes that may overthrow the relationship she and he had built for the past two years.

Greta rested her forehead on his chest. Memories of when she first met Klaus Mikaelson bubbled to the forefront of her mind. He'd rocked her reality without even laying a finger on her. The way he carried himself, articulated his point of view, and used his mind as his most lethal weapon inspired her. Her father had always taught her to respect the rules of family, friendship, and nature, but Klaus taught her it was possible to exist in a world governed by no rules. He repeatedly encouraged her to never censor herself for the sake for others. Candidness was always welcomed among them. Their openness with each other gave her life. That's why she'd rather stop breathing than lose him.

Living without him wasn't an option. There's no sin or act of love she wouldn't commit for him. Like the breaking of the sun and moon curse. The spell had a high probability of being her last. It would take more power than she or Lucy possessed. What else could she do, though? Allow Klaus to be disappointed by another Bennett pretender? Hell no! She refused to stand by and watch him suffer longer than was necessary. A part of himself was missing and the loss which shimmered in the depths of his eyes weighed heavy on her.

After a moment longer she pulled her feelings back, and then lowered the lid on the coffin. A cloaking chant easily slid from her lips in Latin. When the coffin disappeared from sight she crossed the room to the empty trunk. She inhaled enough oxygen to rupture her lungs, and then exhaled. With a heavy heart she resumed her packing. An hour or so later toned arms encircled her mid-section. Warm lips nuzzled the curve her neck. A knowing grin pushed at the corners of her mouth.

"Your aura is more turbulent than usual and extremely cloudy," Lucy's sultry voice provoked her sweet girl to clench. "Are you still troubled over Nik-Nik's absence?" The Bennett witch pressed her lips to the curve of Greta's neck. "If you are, don't be. I'm sure he had his reasons for leaving in the middle of the night without so much as a whisper." A hint of sarcasm tainted the older witch's tone. She gave Lucy the side-eye who in turn gave her waist a squeeze. "Okay, sure! That part is kind of unsettling, but, G…you have to know how much he loves you."

Did he, though? Did he truly love her? Because his mouth had never spoken the words and his eyes had never conveyed the message either. "It's this sun and moon curse."

"Oh, performer's anxiety," Lucy said.

Greta gave her an over the shoulder glare before continuing. "And don't even get me started on the prospective Bennett Witch his family just can't seem to get over. I'll be so happy when all of this foolishness is in our rearview."

Lucy unwound her arms from around Greta's mid-section and moved to stand beside her.

"Well regardless the reason, you're definitely stressed. Lucky for you however, I'm a certified stress reliever. So while you finish up here." She removed her bag from her arm and placed it on a stack of grimoires.

Greta laughed. "Oh, I'm supposed to finish up here. Silly of me for thinking this was to be a joint effort between you and me."

"Sorry, chocolate girl. Today I'll be catering to you and what I have planned is time sensitive." Lucy once again stepped into her personal space and palmed her breasts.

"Yeah?" She swallowed a moan when Lucy's thumb flicked her nipple. "And what plans would those be?"

"First, I plan to feed you, smoked oysters, fully loaded seafood gumbo, and shrimp scampi," Lucy pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, "and then I plan to eat under the sea until I drown."

"Well make some moves then, Miss Billy Bad Ass." Greta said as she grabbed two hands full of Lucy's perfectly rounded butt cheeks. She then pressed her lips to the only Bennett Witch she cared to know. After several seconds of devouring her mouth she broke the kiss. "Thank you."

"No, thank you for allowing me to be part of this," Lucy whispered. She released her hold on Greta. "Be back in an hour."

"Be careful," she said.

"Not if it's no fun," Lucy said, before pecking her lips once more and pulling herself free of their shared embrace. She then crossed the room and strutted out the door without sparing her an over the shoulder glance.

Greta bit into her bottom lip to prevent herself from grinning like a country dumb fool. Lucy was by far one of the sexiest women she'd ever tasted. Every suggestive bit of the Bennett Witch oozed sex, sex, and more sex. If she wasn't careful the erotic beauty would steal something from her she was nowhere near ready to offer. She turned on her heel to reach for the stack of grimoires. Her eyes rolled. Lucy's bag sat on the pile.

"I swear that girl…"

Snatching the purse from the Grimoires, she ran from the room with the bag clutched in hand. She headed in the direction of the parking garage, and slowed when Lucy's voice drifted to her from just around the corner. She sounded as if she were on the phone.

"Even though I haven't seen his body lying around doesn't me he didn't body jump…because I'm sure!" Lucy hissed. "I've already told you how I know! Every component needed to cast the spell was present and accounted for on her damn altar…yeah well trusting me and enjoying my face time is two different damn things. And what about you? Have you managed to take my baby cousin of the board yet...Exactly!" she paused as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. "Look, you're just going to have to be patient. Greta will slip up soon enough and when the paranoid bitch does it's a wrap. Game mother—fucking—over!" She heard the soft rustle of Lucy's clothing as she continued on down the hall.

Greta's heart stopped for a full two beats. How the hell had her and Klaus not seen through this whore? _Beware of the allure of Bennett magic._ Her grandmother's words floated back to her. It was her first lesson. Trust no one but family was her second. She shook her head. Damn this bitch was good. Lucy had slid in the slot and played the hell out of both she and Klaus. However, the worse part about the whole shit show was they'd allowed her. Son of a cunt!

Questions surrounded her mental and attacked her brain from all sides. Who the hell was on the other end of the line? What the hell would she gain by taking possession of Klaus' body? Did any of this have anything to do with breaking the sun and moon curse? What the hell's their end game?

Fucking variables had forced the well-built vehicle which transported their thoroughly plotted plans to jump a mountain size curb. And worse than that, Klaus was at a complete disadvantage. If word got out the original was no longer in possession of his body then it'd be just a matter of time before haters came skulking out the fucking wood work hollering about revenge. Shit! He wasn't going to like her accelerating the time table without speaking with him first but oh motherfucking well! She snatched her cell from her pocket and punched a number into the phone.

"Hello," a gruff heavily accented voice answered.

Greta released a sigh before saying, "Ready the jet, Wolfgang. We'll be flying back the states this evening."

* * *

Esther gazed at the small cottage house Niklaus had chosen to inhabit during his surreptitious stay in Mystic Falls. The charming little abode tucked away in the middle of Mystic Woods of all places was quite uncharacteristic of him. Usually, her son favored his living quarters to cavort on the more audacious side of grand.

She ascended the steps of the verandah and approached the entrance. Once she stood upon the sunflower welcome mat she raised a clenched hand and knocked upon the door. When a moment or three passed with no response from within the cottage, she permitted her knuckles to collide with the pale oak wood once again. Still no response. _Oh for the love of Bonnie!_ He could be so infuriating. She reached out and turned the door knob. It twisted without resistance. Taking the unlatched entrance as an open invitation, she entered.

The inside of the sparsely furnished cottage appeared to be an ideal place for a lover's tryst. She moved through the small lodgings, allowing her gaze to touch upon anything which would convey her son's mind frame. Yet none of the possessions present gave any indication to his current thought process.

Well none save one. Esther's eyes flared when they landed on an incomplete painting of Bonnie. She was dressed as she was two days before. Her beautiful aquamarine aura flared all around her. Yet what snatched her eyelids further apart was the amber crystal resting upon her bosom. The Bennett Talisman! It appeared unchanged from the time when Ayana donned the magical pendant. Witch's lore stated the amulet had been handed down from mother to first born daughter since the beginning of the Bennett line. The pendant customarily presented itself to the eldest daughter right before she reached the apex of her sorcery. Which could only mean…

A smile discovered Esther's anticipating lips. Bonnie's quickening was nigh indeed. She spun about to take her leave. Preparations! It was imperative she saw to the preparations!

* * *

Niklaus exited the cottage from the rear upon Esther's knock on the door. He zipped through the woods contemplating whether Rebekah had betrayed her word to not tell their mother of his exploits. The last issue he wanted to be concerned over was Esther's interfering ways and yet there she stood upon his welcome mat. Even after every step he'd manipulated to avoid such a meet. Her intrusiveness would blunder everything.

He easily dodged low hanging branches as his legs and senses propelled him deeper into Mystic Woods. The draw shoving him forward was almost compulsive in nature. Moments later the hint of vanilla, coconuts, and pineapples crawled into his nostrils to incite his predatory character. A trace of fear mingled with the provocative fragrance. The particular component spurned his speed to an unfounded pace. Soon enough he came upon a break in the forest. A dark haired vampire fed on a group of adolescents, while the object of his deepest curiosity secreted herself behind a tree.

Movement among the carnage drew all three notices to the surviving prey. An unfortunate looking girl with lackluster brown hair pulled herself in an upright position. In seconds the dark haired vampire clutched her in his grasp. He then proceeded to whisper playful nonsense to her. Apparently, he planned to use the wench as a diversion of sorts. Just as his relief soared, the Bennett witch tore from her hiding place and raced towards the vampire. With only time to roll his eyes, he hurtled towards her and intercepted the chit halfway to her target. He then zipped them behind another large tree.

"What the shit-," her emerald eyes flared.

He pressed a finger to her lips. Wisps of potent sorcery wrapped around the digit. Miniature stabs of bliss penetrated his hand and slithered up his arm. "Shh, love. Not every battle should be engaged."

"Get your shitty hands off of me!" She struggled against his hold. "If we don't help that fucker's going to kill her!" When he only stared, while being absolutely unmoved by her declaration she once again attempted to prey upon his assumed humanity. "She's a girl! Bat shit as all get out, but she's still just a girl."

He blinked. _The statement tossed him back to a moment in time when an avenging angel of fire and light parted the forest to level his degenerate father with her wrath. "What the shit break is wrong with you? He's a boy! A fucking boy!"_

The exploding recollection took everything he thought he comprehended unawares. How could he remember her from a thousand years before and why did the memory only now resurface? "What is the nature of this sorcery, little witch?"

Her lovely features folded into an array of creases as reaffirmed interest in him sparked bright from her verdant eyes. "What did you just call me?"

"Traditionally, questions are presented for the sole pursuit of an answer. Anything other than a direct reply to said question will instigate a disjunction in communication," he said, as he regarded the sensuous curve of her bottom lip.

She narrowed her jeweled tone gaze as her bewitching face puckered. "Then answer my damn question. Why did you call me little witch?" The tension in her face somewhat relaxed just before her eyes burst into flames. "Did Niklaus speak to you about me?"

"What grants you the entitlement to speak his name with such familiarity?" He whispered.

Her mouth snapped shut. She then glanced away before offering him an answer. "I dreamed of him," she murmured. "And I know this may sound whacked as fuck, but because of my dream I feel as though I know him." Without the appearance of thought she stepped closer. "Like really know him. Almost as if he's a detached part of me."

He opened his mouth only to have his opportunity at speech absconded.

"Unhand my paramour, Marcel," Kol's sniveling voice snared the web of rapture in which they found themselves entangled.

She stepped out of his loose hold only to continue beholding him in her fiery emerald gaze. "What the hell did I tell you about my alone time, Toots?"

"Nothing worth remembering, darling," the little prick said as he allowed his gaze to wander freely over the witch's face and person. "Now why are you here fraternizing with one of Nik's less compelling charity incidents?"

Niklaus' gaze narrowed as he endeavored to remember exactly where he'd misplaced Kol's dagger.

The little witch's body wiggled free of his and the large tree trunk at her back. "No need to be classy. Marcel and I was just discussing your brother."

"I'm not sure I understand why any of my brothers would be a thought-provoking topic of discussion, sweetness." When she strolled within his reach, he wrapped his arms around her. "Elijah will never love anyone as much as he love his tailors. Finn will never enjoy plundering your delicious little mouth more than he prefers pressing his lips to mother's backside. And Niklaus, why there's not enough room in his heart for you and his paranoia. I'm the only Mikaelson worthy of you."

"Oh, baby," she murmured. Her arms slid around his neck. "Has anyone ever told you how fuck hot you are when you're jabbing below the belt?"

"You have when you're pleading for me to jab you below the belt." Kol's hand travelled down her spine to squeeze an exceptionally rounded bottom many would cross oceans just to behold. "Yet, how can you resist? I'm quite magnificent am I not?"

Niklaus' eyes rolled. Surely, the witch saw through his baby brother's flirtatious smirks and disingenuous charm.

She laughed. "Would you prefer I stroke your ego now or blow your horn later? I refuse to do both, you conceited bastard."

Standing on the tips of her toes, she pressed a kiss to the insolent sod's vile lips. And for the first time in over a thousand years his beastly nature stirred within the unplumbed depths of him.

In an attempt to take hold of his mounting rage, he fisted his hands. His nails pierced his palms. Cool thickened fluid seeped from the slots of his fingers. He'd had his fill of Kol's over indulged amour-propre. "Kol, I find it amusing that after almost fifty years in a box you still haven't mastered how not to hope for things that frolics outside the realm of possibility." Fifty years, hmph! It would've easily had been a hundred were it not for their ever intruding mother.

"You mean such as the impossibility of you not ever being a Mikaelson?" Kol speared him with a never intimidating narrow eyed glare. "While we're discussing the subject, exactly how are you still counted among the undead? Mikael is ruthless. And he's never purposefully misplaced his mark. Yet there you stand unmolested and with your vampirism still so exasperatingly intact."

"If your incessant prattle is angling at a point can you please endeavor to make it sometime within this decade, Kol?" He questioned only mildly engaged.

A sneer forced the smirk from Kol's over worked mouth. "Precisely, what act did you commit to earn a pardon from my father?" His reprobate of a brother regarded him with a rather telling stare as he nuzzled Bonnie's neck. "The deed must've been colossal if my father stayed your slaying. Particularly with you being who you are to Nik?"

He was loathe to give Kol's covetous rant credence, however, his note of contention was sound. Why would Mikael allow Marcel to seek his leave unharmed?

Bonnie swatted his chest. "Forget it, Toots. Your father is an oozing herpes sore that moves without design or purpose. Damon, however, is a dick we can do something about. The fuck hole just drained half of my damn clientele and he's is about to kill Matt's twisted ass sister. Now I'm all about staying in my own damn lane, but I don't like that shit eating bastard and an L for him warms my fucking heart."

"Curve your taste for blood, darling," Kol muttered as his gaze skipped to the break in the woods. "Salvatore's already fled with his spoils, and for now we'll allow him to slither back under the slimy boulder from which he crept."

"And why is that pray tell?" Niklaus questioned.

Kol reveled in the gory wickedness of bloodletting. Just what in the bloody hell did he think himself up to? And if the avoidance of mayhem wasn't alarm enough the extra gleam in his dung brown eyes thoroughly unsettled him as well.

Bonnie stepped from Kol's embrace. "Marcel's right! For all we know he's probably the psycho who's gnawing his way through half of Mystic Falls' vanilla flavored population."

"Undoubtedly, yet for now he serves my purpose and until he ceases to do so he may gorge himself on the sodding lot of them if it so pleases him." Once again Kol wrapped himself about the little witch and lifted her slight frame into his arms. "Now why don't we misremember those who are not of note," Kol's squinted gaze skipped to him, before reclaiming the little witch's, "and conclude the evening at your residence away from the incessant pandering of my family." Without further word of caution, he zipped away.

Everything in Niklaus' predacious nature required he give chase to retrieve what justly belonged to him. However an unexpected blow to the back drove his borrowed face into a tree trunk as fingernails attempted to penetrate his spine. Taking advantage of Marcel's muscle memory, he reversed positions with his would be assassin.

Mild surprise flirted with his ever intensifying rage. "Ripper?"

"Stay the fuck away from Rebekah," he growled into the bark of the tree.

Niklaus turned him about to consider the younger vampire. His crazed glare held the look of a creature trapped in between obsession and insanity. Blood and saliva dribbled from his extended fangs onto his chin. Rhythmically, it continued to drip onto the front of his already stained t-shirt. Stefan squirmed in his grasp as growls vibrated from his chest. The feral lunatic was completely unhinged.

"Are you still fostering a torch for Rebekah?" He scoffed. "Over eighty years have come and gone, haven't you any hobbies, Ripper?" Didn't he compel the glutinous deviant to forget his baby sister?

"A hundred, no…thousand! A thousand years can get between us and I'll still slaughter time waiting for Rebekah," he actually had the pluck to roar.

"Why the bloody hell would you ever sentence yourself to such a fate? You were no more than a rebound lover for Rebekah." For the love of scheming and maiming, dealing with the endless parade of his sister's conquests had become a rather tedious affair. Especially, when he already found himself faced with long since reconciled issues. He grasped the younger vampire by the nape of his neck and released an unnecessary but very liberating sigh as he spun them in the direction of his cottage. "Well come on, then. Let's see if I can put your infuriating intransigence to use. On the way you can tell me all about this other vampire who carries your name, and then explain to me in meticulous detail his association with Kol Mikaelson."


	10. Chapter 10

Damon Salvatore sat across from Carol Lockwood inside a booth tucked away in a secluded corner of the Grille. He appraised every expression that crept across her Botox embellished face as she stared at a picture of Emily Bennett wearing her amber talisman. After only a few moments of glancing at the photograph she passed it back to him.

“My word, that thing is hideous.” A frown attempted to pucker the skin between her brows.

He pushed the picture back towards her. “Yes, but have you seen it?”

“No,” She said. He opened his mouth to press the issue, but she held up a finger to silence him, “something as god awful as that I’m absolutely sure I’d remember.”

He pressed his lips together to prevent his tongue from speaking his frustration. “Of course.” He managed to bite out instead.

She took a sip of the cheap red in her wine glass. “Why’re you so interested in a clunky piece of costume jewelry that once belonged to Emily Bennett?” Her voice lowered to a stage whisper. “You know she was the last unofficial woman to be burned as a witch here in Mystic Falls don’t you?”

“Fascinating,” he said, his tone just shy of being jaded.

“Isn’t it? You should’ve met Sheila Bennett…”

He forced his eyes not to roll. “She was Bonnie’s grandmother, right?”

“Right,” she said, pausing long enough to wave a waitress down to refill her glass. “She was a very odd woman, rather eccentric if you ask me. Always telling anyone who’d listen that she was a witch. She even taught that hocus pocus nonsense down at the college. Can you believe that, a respected establishment like Whitmore allowing such a course to be part of its routine curriculum?”

“Zach said she could see the future,” he said for the sake of the conversation.

“Really?” Carol chortled, before placing a hand to her chest, “Then I wonder why she didn’t see that fire hydrant hurtling towards her. It struck her on the head. Right there in the parking lot of the college.”

“Yep, definitely was the day to call in sick,” he added with a bob of the head.

Carol’s watchful stare took a cougar turn. She shifted in her seat and slightly leaned forward, making sure he glimpsed a hint of her saggy cleavage. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to diddle her vanity, he feigned interest and spared her aging goodies a quick look, before folding his face into one of contrition, or at least he hoped.

“Now I feel even worse. You see, Bonnie and I started off on a harsh note, and I’d rather not leave things the way they are between us. Especially, since she’s become really close with Stefan.” He shrugged. “I thought maybe it couldn’t hurt to smooth out our issues,” he said as he slid the picture back into his jacket.

“And you think giving her that thing would land you on her good side?” She released a bemused chuckle. “Please, Bonnie Bennett doesn’t have a good side. She’s a lot like her flighty mother in that way. Take my little pearl of wisdom, move on. She’s not worth the effort.”

Damon inclined his head, while forcing a smile. “Noted.” No longer seeing the reason in pointless small talk, he moved to exit the booth.

She placed a hand on his forearm. “My condolences on your loss. Zach was an upstanding member of this community, who will be greatly missed.”

“Thank you for the sentiment, Carol.” A— _I’ll soldier on_ —smile settled on his lips as he gave her hand a pat. “As you may already know Stefan’s not taking it well.” He twisted his face in what he hoped was a pity inspiring expression. “Guess you can say he’s acting out. Last night he didn’t even bother to come home. And you’d think he’d call, but…” He shook his head.

“Oh,” Carol’s hand slithered down his arm to capture his, “It saddens me to hear your uncle’s death has had such a negative impact on Stefan. He’s such a nice boy. But I can relate.” She gave his fingers a squeeze. “Unfortunately, acting out is Tyler’s default setting. I swear it’s just one thing after the other with him. You know he actually brought Bonnie Bennett home as some kind of cry for attention.”

Damon hoisted a slightly engaged brow. Bennett and the Alpha douche, hmm... “Do tell.”

She raised her free hand with a slow shake of the head. “All I’m saying is, whether you need a sounding board or sound advice I’m here for whatever.”

“You’re too kind.” Once again he attempted to stand. “There’s no way I could repay such generosity.”

She flicked his words away with a snap of her wrist. “Nonsense, of course you can.”

Damon’s already arched brow travelled even farther up his forehead. “What did you have in mind?”

An artificial smile twisted Carol’s lips in a calculated turn. “Well Zach, may he rest in peace, used to supply my foundation, the Greenhouse Society, with a beautiful rare flower called Vervain. It no longer grows around here but he was somehow able to-,”

“Vervain?” He drilled her with a pointed stare as the name fell from his mouth dry and flat.

“So you’ve heard of it, good.”

He settled back in his seat. She’d tweaked his curiosity. How much could this wilting southern phony know about vampires and the affect that Vervain has on them? Then the answer backhanded him with a name. “The Founder’s Council.”

“What about the Founder’s Council, dear?” Her slicing gaze attempted to cleave through his.

Didn’t Stefan slaughter them all in the early 1900’s? “I’m a Salvatore, Carol. We’re taught early on about all things that goes fangs down in the dark.”

“Damon!” Carol hissed. She took a moment to glance from side to side. When sure no one was listening she took a second longer to somewhat compose herself, and then continued. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Although I have Tyler, I’m not at all fluent in the lackluster phrases of teenagers.”

“Cut the shit, Carol,” he snapped, wishing he could compel her ass and just be done with it. But thanks to dear old _Uncle Zach_ the founding families were apparently drinking Vervain extract by the gallon. “If you want the damn Vervain then you’re gonna have to be straight with me.”

“But Zach promised it to us.”

“And I’m worlds away from giving a shit,” he lowered his voice when a couple in the next booth glanced over at them. “You want the pretty purple flowers, then spill.” When she continued to remain silent he made a show of leaving.

With a slight narrowing of the eyes, she pursed her lips before saying, “Fine. I see no harm in confirming something we already both know.” A sigh slithered from her painted rose-pink lips. “Over the last few months, there’s been a surge in animal attacks in Mystic Falls.” She speared him with a pointed look.

“And you think the mountain lions have returned.”

She inclined her head. “Zach provided us with enough Vervain to protect everyone on the council, but since the attacks increased…”

“Members have become uneasy,” he supplied.

“Well, yes. If the vamp-,”

“Mountain lions,” he quietly corrected, cutting her the hell off.

A faint smile troubled her lips. “If the _mountain lions_ have come back, then our family members should be protected as well.” Oh so it was just the council members guzzling down the vamp off, hmm…noted. “One attacked William on school grounds for Christ’s sakes. Who’s next, the children?”

“Carol, I’d be more than happy to pick up where my uncle left off,” he covered their joined hands with his free one. Relief radiated from her nipped and tucked face. “On one condition.”

“Condition?” She snatched her hands from his. “What condition?”

“I’d like to take my uncle’s seat on the council,” he answered.

“I don’t have the authority to grant such a request, Damon.”

Damon sucked in a minimum amount of air through his teeth. “Ooh, then I doubt if I can help you, Carol.” He moved to stand.

“Wait,” she closed her eyes as she swore under her breath. “I’ll have to speak with my husband and Liz first, but I don’t foresee their being an issue. Your family is one of the founding families after all, and your ancestor Giuseppe Salvatore did form the Council…,”

His teeth clenched and his muscles locked at the sound of his father’s name. “Endorse my membership, and the Council will have more Vervain than they’ll know what to do-,” The arrival of Bonnie Bennet and Kol Mikaelson threw a brick wall in front of his train of thought. “I have to go, Carol. Call me in the morning with the Council’s decision.”

He hurried towards the side door at a pace that was almost inhuman. Once outside he stopped a few steps from the cement stairs. Shit, shit, shit! Kol Mikaelson was the last Mikaelson he wanted to run into. Mainly, because the ancient psycho had strapped his immortality to a countdown clock. Damon had less than a day to find out which vampire wanted the youngest Bennett Witch ten toes up and he didn’t have a hint, inkling, or suggestion of a fucking clue.

“You’re a hot older guy. Do the damn math! How hard can it be to get next to an unpopular seventeen year old introvert?” A familiar voice bitched.

“It shouldn’t be fucking hard at all, but clearly Bonnie Bennett isn’t as unpopular as I remember. The chick’s gained status since the last time I fucked off in the halls Mystic High,” Another voice snapped back.

The mention of the Bonster’s name yanked his antennas in an upright position. He crept closer to match a face with the— _oh so_ —familiar voice and was met with an unsuspected blast from his human days. Annabelle? Why the hell wasn’t she in the tomb with Katherine and her mother? And what reason could she possibly have for wanting Bonnie dead? His eyes rolled, what a stupid question. Anna must’ve had the misfortune of meeting the teen witch. Tough shit, the older vampire would have to curve her urge to rip Bennett to shreds, just like he’d done. Regardless of how much Bonnie twerked his damn nerves, they still needed her to perform the spell that would open the tomb.

“Oh skip me with the glory day’s trip down memory lane. You just graduated a few months ago.” She stared at the infant vamp as if he were the dumbest shit on two legs. “How much hall cred could she have gained?”

The dumb shit in question shrugged. “A shit ton of it. Look, maybe she started busting it open, because every time she comes into the Grille, she’s one to three deep with those old fangers you call Originals.”

Originals? The name slid across his mind and committed itself to his memory.

“Holy dicks! We’ll never get close to her if things keep crawling along at this pace.” She pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes closed. After a moment, her eyes snapped back open. “Well we’re damn sure aren’t gonna figure things out in the middle of Mystic Falls Square. Let’s head back, we need a few new plays. Didn’t you say she sold loud?”

As the couple bled away into the night, Damon followed.

* * *

 

Bonnie settled herself in seventh period study hall, preparing to take her afternoon nap. Moments later Rebekah claimed the desk next to hers.

“This discussion hour is pointless,” the blonde said as she produced a fingernail file from her bag, and then proceeded to file her already flawlessly manicured nails. “We should altogether omit this study period from our schedule.” The original flashed her a smile with a just a hint of fang. “I can think of more invigorating things we can do with our time.”

“Oh, yeah?” She returned her girlfriend’s smile with a filthy one of her own. “What kind of invigorating things did you have in mind, Becky?” She raised a finger. “And if you say cheerleading, I will fucking maim you with that file.”

A shadow descended upon the original’s golden features. “And if you address me by that name again, know that I’ll utilize this very file to retrieve your tongue, Lover.”

“Ooh, fangs and claws. I’m having a difficult time keeping my knees together,” she said, more than ready to ditch her afternoon nap for a quick grind session in the girls’ bathroom. Then her thoughts switched lanes. Rebekah hadn’t spoken a sentence to her since the day of the Founder’s Party. “Hold up. So you’re talking to me now? Who the hell snatched you out of your feelings?”

The blonde original averted gaze to eyeball the hell out of Mr. Adler. “I’m truly sorry for not disclosing my past with Marcel to you, however I honestly believed him dead. And if I’m to bring to your attention every one of my dalliances over the last thousand years you’d be silver haired and back in nappies by the time I made it through the D’s.”

“Rebekah, I don’t expect you to run me your whole damn hit list. I just need to know about the ones who’ve had you all in your feels and puts that heat in your eyes.” Now it was her turn to avert her gaze. “It’s the same thirst bucket look you get whenever you look at Stefan or Marcel.”

She heard Beks clear her throat and wondered if the action was really necessary. “Well-,”

“Bonnie,” Mr. Adler called from the head of the class. “Gather your things. Your schedule has been changed.”

“What?” She and Rebekah yelled in unison.

Mr. Adler’s four eyed glare flicked between the two of them. “I don’t want to hear it. If you have an issue with the changes, make an appointment with the guidance counselor. For now, remove yourself from my class. You’re to report to the art studio in the sky portables.”

Bonnie bit back the disrespectful remark parlaying on the tip of her tongue. She tooted her lips at Rebekah before grabbing her bag and hauling ass out of class. Once in the hall, she thought about chucking deuces and ending the day early, but decided against it. She wanted to see what fresh fuckery they’d deposited her in without even a whisper of her consent.

Several minutes later she reached the sky portables at the back of the school. As soon as she stepped inside the classroom a forgettable but extremely compelling voice set fire to her ears.

“Miss Bennett, what an honor.” A fiery image enflamed her line of vision. “I’d become rather apprehensive over your collapsing pursuit of academic advancement.”

Shock knocked her down and had its nasty way with her. “What the shit break are you doing here?” She demanded before she could check herself.

“Welcome to Art History Appreciation, Love. I’ll be your instructor, but you may refer to me as Mr. Gerrard.”

* * *

 

“This course will encompass the entire history of human creativity. From finger paintings on cavern walls fashioned by prehistoric cavemen to Derrick Adams’ exploration into the deconstruction and operation of structure and surface.”

Elijah’s dubious stare narrowed as he watched what appeared to be Marcel Gerrard prance and preen about a makeshift discussion hall while he lectured a small gathering of dispirited adolescents, which curiously happened to include Bonnie and the human doppelganger.

The younger vampire’s supercilious blustering, coerced his eyes to roll. The little urchin attempted to wax poetic for the superior part of an hour. Had the end of lecture alarm not sounded, the form of his prodigal nephew would still be posturing upon his own overinflated self-importance.

Elijah entered the portable room and stepped to the side to allow the students to exit. His gaze remained fastened upon Bonnie and the way Marcel lingered a half meter too close to her.

“It’s against the law to use school grounds to troll for dates. Especially if they’re minors, Elijah.” The human doppelganger…Elena Gilbert he believed it was, stepped into his sight line and ruined an absolutely faultless view with her mediocrity.

“Please, refer to me as Mr. Mikaelson, Miss Gilbert. Any other handle would be highly inappropriate.” He regarded her with a barely tolerant closed lipped smile he reserved for unfavorable associates.

“How about you stay away from me and Bonnie, then I won’t call you anything, _Elijah_ ,” she uttered in a hissed whisper. “I swear, lately I can’t open my eyes without being forced to see you or your family.”

“You do make quite the unsolicited vision yourself, Miss Gilbert. And it would seem you go to remarkable lengths to do so. Why just this morning I witnessed one of your extracurricular activities online. Your skill set may have left a lot to be desired, yet the effort you committed to the performance was…admirable. I’m amazed you still discover the fortitude required for academic achievement.” He took a moment to relish her distress before allowing his gaze to stray back to Bonnie and his alleged nephew.

Marcel appeared quite conflicted. Almost as if he was just as perplexed by the Bennett witch as he and his siblings. And as always she continually remained oblivious to their reaction to her.

“Why don’t you find a speeding train and step in front of it,” the unoriginal Gilbert girl hurled at him before taking her leave.

Bonnie’s gaze collided with his at the slamming of the door. A smile without artifice possessed her tempting mouth and in turn coerced one from him. She truly was exquisite. No longer able to take the intolerable agony of distance, he went to her.

“Elijah Mikaelson, now isn’t this an alteration to your ever methodical pandering of all things doppelganger,” Marcel said in a most peculiar way unfitting to his common style of speech. “What’s the source of such hostility on your part, did her boots not pair well with her bag?”

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Marcel’s face. His animated facial expressions appeared slightly excessive for his generally subdued features. “Marcel, your brief jaunt to the other side has introduced a rather sarcastic flare to your character. It would be wise to refrain from such flickers while in my presence. In its absence you’d do well to explain the purpose of your attendance here.”

“And why the shit break am I here?” Bonnie demanded, while capturing his hand.

The familiar pulse of her sorcery pricked his palm and surged up his forearm. The exquisiteness of her magic nearly forced a moan from his mouth. Yet, abandoning himself to his urges in the presence of his so called nephew simply wouldn’t be acceptable. So he pressed his lips together and persevered. When his stare reclaimed Marcel’s a knowing smirk met his gaze. It would seem the cur had witnessed his momentarily loss of decorum.

“My father’s passion for art moved me to accept this station. Acquainting undeveloped minds with the likes of Botticelli satisfies my craving to repay the debt afforded to me all those years ago by your family.” A hint of mock tainted his words as his gaze slid over Bonnie’s phenomenal form.

“Captivating, yet I discover myself more interested in your presence in Mystic Falls in general. You’ve been dead to us for the better part of a century. Why present yourself now?” He stroked the back of Bonnie’s hand with the pad of his thumb. Tiny lances of ecstasy pierced his very anticipating nerve endings. “Is this some sort of nonspecific Machiavellian attempt against my family?”

“You mean _our_ family,” Marcel gave him a condemning look, before becoming sentimental. “And my only wish is to reunite with them, which entails you as well, uncle.”

“Aww, how pussy of you and sooo unnecessary,” Bonnie snapped as her glare attempted to slice through him. “Why don’t you run your ass back to New Orleans and swan dive back into the grave you climbed out of? Rebekah’s good on you, Lazarus.” Her gaze rediscovered his. “Are you ready?”

“Not quite, I need but another moment alone with Marcel.” He brought their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of hers.

She nodded as she continued to glare at Marcel. “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait for you back at Mikaelson House. Try not to waste too much more time on him. Immortal or not, he’s not worth the seconds that makes up a minute,” she said, before seeking her leave.

Marcel clutched his heart, while feigning an expression which oozed agony. A smirk toyed with his lips as he watched her go.

“How long do you plan to continue this farce?” Elijah slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers as he regarded the face of his nephew.

The imposter’s brows cavorted just beneath his hairline as his eyes flared in assumed shock. “Uncle, whatever do you mean?”

Elijah hoisted a tolerant brow, before he began to pace around the classroom. “What do you hope to achieve with this ill-prepared plot?” He turned to regard a very authentic Rembrandt painting his brother undoubtedly had passed off as a print.

“Uncle-,”

“Spare me the unconvincing portrayal of your adoptive son, Niklaus.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. His patience was approaching its end. “At this juncture, Bonnie is the only one among us who is unaware of this inane ploy of yours.” He opened his eyes to fasten a damning glare on his foolish younger brother.

Dimples lined Marcel’s cheeks as a smirk besmirched his lips. “It would seem Rebekah has become rather fond of the comforts of her dagger and coffin.”

“You will leave our sister be, Niklaus. Rebekah did not betray her word.” Elijah moved on to another painting which practically radiated chaotic darkness from its canvas. Undoubtedly one of Niklaus’ creations. “Mother recognized your magical signature the moment you entered Mystic Falls. Surely, you knew such schemes would never deceive her.”

A devil-may-care shrug raised and dropped Marcel’s shoulders. “It wasn’t mother I wished to deceive. In fact, I had no designs of interacting with our mother while in this form.”

“And an interesting form you’ve elected to utilize to be sure,” Elijah tsked.

“Which is neither here nor there. I only meant to take the measure of the prospective Bennett witch before a formal introduction could take place between she and I.”

“And is this,” he waved a hand at Marcel’s body, “some unconventional method of discipline you’ve decided to use on your wayward progeny for failing to inform you of his continued survival after Mikael razed our home to the ground?”

“Brother, I find your assumptions wildly inaccurate and greatly presumptuous. Yet, quite predictable. The art of deduction has never been part of your astoundingly limited skill set.” Niklaus clasped his hands behind his back, while continuing to mock him with another’s face. “I selected Marcel’s form based on proximity alone. However, you may rest assured, his day of judgement will indeed fit his crimes. For now, my only aspiration is to become aquainted with the little witch with whom you all appear to be so taken.”

Elijah allowed the pads of his finger to glide over a stone tablet he’d believed to have lost centuries ago. He should’ve known Niklaus had absconded with the precious artifact. Items of beauty often incited the covetous beast within his younger brother. If he didn’t proceed with caution Bonnie could fall victim to his ever avaricious nature.

“Niklaus, you’ll cease with all of these stratagems and confess your true identity to Bonnie or I’ll take the liberty of informing her of your schemes myself,” he said, turning to lend his brother the full weight of his attention.

“And the point of your dagger will reacquaint itself with your heart, there soon after.” The writhing veins beneath his eyes contradicted Marcel’s human façade. “Whatever transpires between myself and the witch is of no concern to you or our family. The bloody lot of you will hold your tongue and not interfere with my evaluation of the prospective Bennett. Should one of you endeavor to test me, I’ll forgo the unraveling of the prophecy in favor of breaking the sun and moon curse.” Niklaus paused to consider him. “Are we in agreement or do I have a human doppelganger to sacrifice?”

“You’d do that to mother? Leave her completely defenseless to the harsh retribution nature will most certainly rain down upon her.” Elijah strolled forward, subtracting the distance between them.

“You seem to forget, mother is the sole architect of our thousand year dilemma. Whatever nature bestows upon her will be a fate well earned.” With that said he sought his leave.

* * *

 

Rage surged through every vessel in Marcel Gerard’s person. Concentrated anger nearly vibrated Niklaus Mikaelson’s essence right out of his adoptive son’s form. How dare Elijah think to present him… _HIM…_ with an ultimatum? The prospective Bennett was his to claim in whatever respect he so chose. In verity, the prophecy said as much.

His mother and siblings’ concern for the little witch had grown beyond the boundaries of unassuming preparation. Elijah’s eyes practically smoldered with embers of longing. Why, the pitiable bastard was well-nigh besotted with the witch. Truth be professed, they all were infuriatingly infatuated with her.

He stalked through Mystic Woods with the descending sun at his back and no single destination in mind. More or less, he sought to decompress. So he allowed instinct to order his steps and soon after he discovered himself upon the site where the white oak once grew. Though to his surprise he wasn’t alone. The prospective Bennett stood before him. Confusion glazed her striking verdant eyes.

Her gaze flicked about the forest until it landed upon him. “What the holy fuck am I doing back here?”

A flash of a memory infiltrated his confirmed reality and decimated its foundation. Her pressing a kiss to his brow under the white oak tree when he was but a boy compromised everything he thought he knew about his childhood. The recollection was vivid, but still rather fleeting. What was the meaning of this line of sorcery? His family assured him the witch was a novice in the ways of the craft. Yet, memory implantation required skill and infinite power. Especially, in a mind as old and guarded as his.

“Edify my curiosity.” As he approached, his eyes traveled over her in dawdling assessment. The rawness of her splendor appealed to him like no other. “Are you following me, Little Witch?”

“Don’t call me that! And how the hell could I be following you when I was here first?” She looked away to resume examining the forest.

Her dismissal irritated him. Who in bloody hell was she to be dismissive of him? “A witch’s sorcery affords her many advantages, even glimpses into the future. Unbeknownst to me, you could’ve prearranged this little tryst.” She ignored him in favor of scanning the fucking trees. “What of this unremarkable landscape holds your interest?”

“I’m not interested in the landscape, fire crotch.”

The handle yanked his head sideways. “Fire crotch?”

“I’m more concerned with the tree line pattern.” She turned about to scrutinize the space the white oak tree once occupied.

Three wrinkles gathered between her brows, her lips slightly puckered. The irresistible pricks of her magic beckoned him to come closer and readily he indulged. He permitted himself to be drawn to her and didn’t stop until the front of him grazed the back of her. Instead of removing herself to reestablish polite distance, she leaned back and applied pressure to the slight contact between their persons.

Allowing instinct to guide him, he gripped her upper arms, and then leaned down to position his mouth next to her ear. His lower lip brushed her lobe. Her answering gasp nearly ended him. “Why’re you concerned with the tree line pattern, Love?”

“There’s no change, and…” She commanded the rate of his heart with a sideways glance.

Her profile was just as artistically compelling as the rest of her countenance. “And?”

“I thought since I ended up back here that maybe…”

Before her gaze swung away he saw just the hint of yearning simmering in her eyes, and the transparency there partly assuaged his curiosity. “Who were you expecting, love?”

“Niklaus’,” She uttered to his surprise.

A silent prayer glided across his tongue. He thanked the mother of all that his lungs no longer depended upon oxygen, for her whispered confession impeded his air supply.

“Niklaus’ name on your lips is become an unvarying occurrence, little witch. Why’re you so riveted by him?” Maybe her answer would explicate his own rapidly mounting obsession with her.

“I’m not rivet-…ugh…Where the fuck is he? Why isn’t he here?” The muscles in her arms tensed, while the beating of her heart escalated. Coconuts, pineapples, and the intoxicating hint of Bennett magic scented the air.

Not one to deny himself the finest of what his undead life had to offer, he dipped his head to breathe in her inebriating fragrance. His gums throbbed. Blood hurtled through his vessels and pooled in his cock. Burying himself deep within her feminine channel ascended to number one on his list of priorities.

“He’ll be here straightaway, little witch. You have my unconditional word.” He’d contact Greta about accelerating the time line. He could practically taste the imminence of her quickening. He spun her about to face him. “Do you still dream of him?”

She tore her lush green gaze from his and at first he thought she wouldn’t answer, but she staggered them both by saying, “Not lately, but I think I may…miss him. It’s crazy, I know. I haven’t said one shitty word to him, it’s just…Gawd!” She reached up and grabbed fists full of her hair. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

He grabbed her wrists and proceeded to untangle her fingers from her hair. “It appears fate means to have her way. Foretelling states, Niklaus Mikaelson and the prophesized Bennett’s souls and magic will merge on a metaphysical tier. As the witch’s quickening approaches, she will be induced to reunite with her other half through, magical, spiritual, and physical means. Only then will the two redefine the jurisdiction of nature’s law and bring about a neoteric supernatural world order.

“Everything you’re saying sounds unnatural, contrived even.” She yanked her hands from his hold only to replace them on his chest. Magic surged from her palms and penetrated his rib cage, seducing and infiltrating each cell in his borrowed body until the point of rupture. “What I feel for Niklaus is completely different. It’s intense, but just as natural as my instinct inhale and exhale. He should be here.”

“And so he shall.”  

He cupped her face in his hands and permitted his eyes to greedily devour her tantalizing features. His back teeth clenched. On all things sinful and decadent, Bonnie was beyond breathtaking. In her presence he misremembered family, lovers, and enemies alike. Even his name escaped him when he found himself imprisoned in the insurmountable depths of those damnable pools of rain forest green.

His gaze drifted to her plump lower lip. A compulsion to plunder her mouth overran his resolve. Without the presence of mind, his lips discovered hers in a clash of tongues and teeth. In a series of sighs and gasps, she melted into him. Her arms slid around his neck, and dragged him closer to gain an improved access to his mouth. He obliged, all while allowing his hands to run unchecked down her back until they gripped the firm swells of her cleverly rounded bottom.

Breathy moans slipped from her mouth into his. Waves of intoxicating sorcery vibrated against the seam of their joined lips. The unique wild sweet taste of her wrapped about his tongue. Every pulsating nerve in Marcel’s body pleaded to be stimulated, whether it was from the firm grip of her hand or the biting edge of her nails. He wanted to experience every complicated part of her and he intended to spoil himself thoroughly.

After a several moments of dueling tongues and nibbling lips, he lifted her into his arms. “I have a cottage just beyond the break in the woods. How about a bit of extra credit, little witch?”

“It depends,” she said in between nipping at Marcel’s bottom lip and thrusting her tongue in and out of his mouth.

“On?” He growled, beyond the boundaries of patience.

She pulled her enticing mouth from his to glare down at him. “Are you here for Rebekah?”

“Not even if they offered me an immortality supply of doppelganger’s blood,” he said, meaning every bloody word which crept from his mouth.

“Good, because I’ve always gotten off on doing extra credit,” she murmured as ground herself into the lower muscles of his abdomen. “And as a matter fact, I’ve got just the right brains for the job.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Bonnie had not only lost her mind, she’d also lost her state of being to the peach textured like surface of Marcel’s tongue. To the sweet citrusy taste of his mouth. The way his lips felt pressed against hers incinerated her chill. For the love of Mr. Marcus, he was a five star X-rated kisser. After only a few minutes of oral play with him, she wanted nothing more than to snatch off all of her clothing and offer her fire god something he could feel. Have motherfucking mercy!

Wide of the mark was now her position. Marcel was Niklaus’ son for fucks sake, not to mention Rebekah’s ex. Not one fraction of what she’d found herself wrapped up in with him was right. But she couldn’t stop herself from deliberately burning with him in their wrong. Every inch of his fiery ass set every piece and part of her to blaze. If only she knew where he put the brakes. Hell, if only she cared.

At knee knocking speed, he whisked them through the forest. Thorny switches slashed at her cheeks, while the wind whipped at her hair. She tightened her arms and locked her legs around him and prayed like shit he didn’t run them into a tree. Surprisingly, however, he navigated the landscape like a Mystic Falls lifer.

In no time, he had her pinned to his front door slow grinding into her candy shop as he fumbled to find the right key. After several failed attempts of jamming the wrong one into the lock he growled, and then twisted the knob right off the door. She heard the metal handle clatter to the porch as he zipped them inside. Moments later her back met the velvet of an area rug. The downy material caressed her lower back and thighs. She squirmed her hips a little from side to side to alleviate the lust beating at her core like a prize fighter hell twisted on defending his title.

Marcel climbed over and caged her in with flaming rock hard appendages. Fiery brilliance met her gaze as she once again attempted to penetrate the blazing inferno that made up his face. She reached up and placed her hand where she assumed his cheek would be. Blazing tendrils wrapped themselves around her fingers and wrists. Low pulses of electric bliss pierced the pads of her digits, shot through her system and slammed in to her sorcery.

The collision sparked a melting pot of rapturous sensations and blitzed her ass in under five seconds. She rode the high in a moaning and twisting state of crazy. Two and a half seconds before she crashed his mouth rediscovered hers, while his hands moved faster than her senses could track to remove her clothes.

“Mm, Little Witch,” he murmured as his fingers traced the outline of her breast and nipples through her bra. “Your person is a monument of inspiration to my inventive drive. Once I commit every centimeter of your inimitable form to memory,” he shoved the undergarment upwards to free her breasts, “I’ll immortalize you on canvas and all will admire your radiance for ages to come.”

Wet heat covered the nipple of her left breast as his fingers firmly tweaked the one on the right. His teasing manipulations, motivated her lower half to buck upwards in search of friction. Fuckstration rocked her shit when her thrust met air instead of the awesome bulge in his pants. He laughed and the sound only served to piss her off.

“Why’re you playing with me?” She questioned. Her voice met her ears in a breathy whisper. “You want me to beg…I w-won’t…not for you.”

“Oh you’ll beg, little witch,” he said as he pressed kisses down her abdomen. “Not only will you beg, you’ll do so even after your vocal chords are no longer competent in the art of producing sound.”

Seconds later her pants were torn from her body. When he began nipping at her upper thighs, her teeth sank into her bottom lip to suppress the Benedict Arnolds of moans. “Marcel, sto…oh…”

His mouth introduced itself to her pearl and sucked it hello through the lace of her panties. The concept of forming words slipped way beyond her grasp of functionality. She grabbed his head with the full intention of slowing his roll, but as the suction on her clit increased she used her grip to bring his face closer and direct how he moved.

“Would you like me to remove your unmentionables?” He questioned in a tone which served up so much fake innocence she thought his tongue would turn green on the spot. He tsked. “After all, they’re soaking wet. Why, you may very well catch your death in these, however on second deliberation, you most assuredly will die multiple deaths out of them. The choice is ever yours, little witch.”

“T-take them off,” she stammered, while stroking the fade line of his haircut at the back of his head as encouragement.

He pressed another kiss to her upper thigh. “Wise decision indeed,” he said, before ripping her underwear from her body as if it was made of nothing more than paper napkins and dental floss. His sharp intake of breath banged her ears nice and slow. She came up on her elbows to see what all the damn fuss was about and was met with the sight of the sun about to go down on her. “A monument to inspiration indeed,” he murmured.

She lay back on the area rug and stared up at the large wooden beams that supported the high ceilings of the cottage. Maybe she should stop them from going any further. Wouldn’t being with him be like cheating on her significant others? Yeah, she had to put an end to—holy stars and stripes! The soft muscle of his oral cavity slipped between her Pop Rocker’s lips to give her chart topper a sinuous tongue kiss.

After a few hair pulling licks and swirls, all of her good intentions led her straight to the gates of hell. She was so lost. Especially when he slipped two fingers inside of her. Right then and there she decided to take the long way down. Consequences could suck a dick. Just not his. She planned to put in the work on that job later.

Her magic and his fervent essence smashed together in a sensual fusion. The big bang clash nearly caused her to bite her tongue in half. The logs in the fireplace to the left of them, spontaneously combusted. The ceiling fan above spun to life on high. A deliciously throbbing tension kicked off in her lower abdomen and thoroughly gorged itself on her fading inhibitions until all that remained in its place was a swirling mess of wanton madness. The explosive discharge resonated to lick the juddering inners walls of her off the leash good girl who'd taken a shit ton of pleasure in going—Michael Jackson—bad.

At that point she didn’t know if she was coming or cumming. Least not until shit met the notorious fan, and Marcel’s plunging fingers discovered the location of her OM…G-spot. After that, things went all the way live! An orgasm the size of Canada snatched her mental and physical in a choke hold. Paroxysmal convulsions popped and locked her frame as nonsensical gibberish took possession of her tongue. There was no shitty way she could literally survive this fall. He ensured as much when his mouth and fingers continued to suckle, stroke, and thrust her up another sky scraping climax.

Soon all she could do was hold on as she died several times screaming. When he finally let her touch the ground again she was a quivering confused muddle of broken judgements and incomprehensible phrases. She thought Kol’s mouth and lip service played with her mind, but Marcel’s oral play snatched her entire damn brain. He’d done her so ridiculously wrong every muscle in her body trembled at even the idea of moving. Hell, she could barely feel her legs! Not to mention, exhaustion rode her better than Rebekah. Facts, she was working harder than Kanye West’s PR team to keep her eyes open. What the original fuck had he done to her?!

“What th-th…the-,”

“Shh, I’ve got you, love…I’ve got you.” Marcel licked, nipped, and kissed his way back up her body until he reached her earlobe. There, he spent several seconds nibbling and suckling the sensitive skin. Once he released her lobe he whispered, “I want nothing more than you to take me in your mouth as I drain your femoral artery, but alas, I’m in possession of another’s person and it wouldn’t bode well to establish a blood bond between you and my adoptive son. Moreover, your enchanted elixir would most assuredly turn him ripper and I can only see to so many issues at a time.”

She forced her way through a thick fog of lethargy to make sense of his words. “W-what did-,”

“Shh…rest, love.” His soothing words persuaded her to do as he said. So she allowed her lids to close. Seconds after which, he lifted her into his arms. “I’ll explain all when you awake.”

* * *

 

“Drive faster,” Greta Martin demanded.

“Sorry, Ms. Martin. I’m going as fast as the roads will allow. Any faster, and I’ll lose control of the vehicle,” the driver said, while glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “’Sides, I can barely see anything through all of this rain.”

This wouldn’t track. They’d be overran in a matter of minutes. She needed to find a place she could safeguard while she performed the spell to get Klaus back in his body. “There should be something coming up on the right, a little ways back off the road. Pull in there.” She reached over the seat to place her hand on Klaus’ coffin.

Greta glanced out the rear window of the SUV. She didn’t see anyone following them, but her enhanced sorcery could sense the overpowering mystical energy of Bennett Magic. It thickened the air and agitated her witch given instincts. Not only was Lucy close, but she also perceived the unnatural icy calm of the undead. The bitch had a vampire with her and by the foreboding impression that weighed on her, the vamp was at least a half century old. How the hell had Lucy caught up with her so damn fast?

For the past forty-eight hours she’d travelled with only minimal stops along the way. A few miles outside of Mystic Falls, she’d begun to sense Lucy and the feeling only seemed to gain on her. The flash of car lights in the distance sliced through the unending darkness and yanked her heartbeat out of rhythm. A wave of magic slammed into the back of the truck. The rear window exploded. She buried her face in her hands as jagged shards of glass embedded itself into her forearms and shattered against Klaus’ coffin.

“What the hell! Ms. Martin are you okay?” The SUV began to slow.

“I’m fine. Don’t slow down,” she yelled, while scanning the country side for anywhere to take shelter. Up ahead a rundown shed came into view. “There’s a barn coming up on the right. Drive into it without stopping.”

“What? But it’s not open,” The driver chanced a glance at her over his shoulder.

“I don’t give a shit. Just fucking drive into, Dacklin!”

Another wave of magic rocked the truck. It zig-zagged from side to side before finally righting. When he regained control of the SUV, he turned off onto the dirt road leading to the barn. The dark sedan pursuing them followed suit. Now the trailing car was close enough for her to see the outline of the driver and passenger. She had the strong urge to spark there asses with a hellified hex, but she curbed the desire. She had to conserve her magic. She’d need every last drop of her sorcery to get Klaus back in his body.

“Hang on, Ms. Martin!” Dacklin yelled.

It was the last thing Greta heard before the car crashed into the barn.

* * *

 

Once again Bonnie found herself back in the forest on what appeared to be a moonless night. Yet who the hell could tell what was in the sky with the over explosion of leaves bursting from the trees. If not for the fire burning in the distance her vision would’ve been no better than Stevie Wonder’s. Who the hell did Marcel Gerrard think he was, leaving her in the middle of Mystic fucking woods? She should get Kol to kick his ass! That’ll teach him not to drown a girl in O’s until she passed out, and then stashing her under a tree to avoid the whole— _don’t call me, I’ll call you_ —tango. The shit wad!

About a few hundred feet from the fire she heard a familiar voice and felt the intense pull of what she had come to know as magical vibrations. “Why am I the one to be made answerable? It was unbeknownst to me the witch was even in my charge, Elijah.” Kol Mikaelson. Think of the devil and he will show you his tail.

She opened her mouth to call out to him, but snapped it shut when she stepped from the brush. Elijah and Kol stood in front of a burning tree, flanking the older witch Niklaus referred to as Ayana. Her heart dropped to her ankle as she stopped breathing for a full five seconds. She was back. How long had it been this time? Minutes, hours, or years?

As she approached Kol and Elijah continued to bicker. Ayana, however, turned to straight face the hell out of her before extending her hand. “Come, let us recite the spell.”

The Mikaelson brothers stopped tongue slashing each other when Ayana spoke. Two matching sets of brown eyes swung to her. Both of their faces held interest, but no real recognition.

Not sure of what else to do, she nodded to them, and then placed her hand in Ayana’s. “How long has it been?”

“Only a turn of the sands.” _Whatever the hell that meant_. The elder witch gave her hand a squeeze. “You are garbed in a different manner than afore. Has it been many risings since you were here last?”

She looked down and sure as hairy asses she wore an old school potato sack that fell down to her ankles—minus underwear. This time instead of it being faded blue, the itchy fabric was moss green. She scratched at her thighs through the material as she turned to consider the blazing white oak tree.

“If you’re referring to days, then it’s been nearly three.” Something throbbed and tugged at the very center of her. Her heart began to pummel her rib cage. Chaotic notions chipped peace from her mind. She fisted her hands and allowed her fingernails to bite into her palms. Her glare left the tree and flicked to the direction of the pull. She shuffled her feet to assuage the need to move. “I have to see Niklaus.”

“Soon,” Ayana said. When her voice gained gravity, Bonnie reluctantly let her gaze wander back to her. “Firstly, we must see to his well-being. To all of their well-beings. Destroying the tree will safeguard their risings to come.”

Bonnie’s stare leapt to Kol and Elijah who in turn regarded her with troubled eyes and…fear? Their anxiety slammed brakes on her spinning world. In all her time of knowing the Mikaelsons, she’d never seen any of them afraid. The emotion looked out of place on their near perfect faces. The crushing urge to go and reassure them things would be fine appealed to every muscle in her body. And had it not been for their closed off demeanors, she would’ve done just that. Instead, she returned her gaze to Ayana.

“My magic is iffy at best. Hell, I barely even know how to light a candle, so I’m not sure how much help I’d be with flaming an entire tree.” Bonnie decided to put everything ironically on wood. She didn’t need them thinking of her as some kind of super witch. “I don’t know any spells and Mrs. Mikaelson only just started teaching me Latin.”

Ayana nodded as she gave her hand another squeeze. Dark mystical eyes bore into hers. “Worry not, I only need to channel your sorcery as I recite the spell.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Concentrate.” With that said, Ayana grabbed her other hand. “Unencumber your mind. Sense your magic. Allow it to course through your person unchecked and flow liberally from you.”

Bonnie closed her eyes and focused on the mystical energy whipping through her veins and arteries. She let go of the mental leash she used to keep it in check. Once freed, her magic surged to the surface and shot to pool in her hands.

Ayana gasped. “You must be the end of my line. Your sorcery is unmatched.”

Bonnie opened her eyes in time to see Ayana close hers. The elder witch began to chant in Latin. The flames on the white oak glowed sky blue, before evolving into an aquamarine hue. Tiny gold electrical whips arced randomly through the vibrant firestorm of transparent blue.

“The fire matches her aura,” she heard Kol whisper.

The awe in his tone snatched her gaze to his. She allowed her eyes a chance to explore her beautiful monster. Aside from his now shoulder length sable tresses and country dumb attire, he looked exactly the same; save his mouthwatering browns. Somehow, they appeared younger and less jaded, but still bold as shit. His stare crept over her face in a— _I’ve got time_ —fashion and without a blush of shame. As always he jacked up the heat in her body to hell fire temperatures. Damn he was a habit that she’d rather blow her brains out than quit.

“There, our period of labor here is done.” Ayana released her hands, and then turned to consider the aquamarine blaze incinerating the tree. After a moment her gaze recaptured Bonnie’s. “Come, we should return to the Mikaelsons’ land to see how Niklaus fares.”

As Bonnie moved to follow Ayana, Kol fell into step with her. “So you are the fabled _‘little witch’_ Niklaus has sought for nigh sixteen summers.”

“Sixteen summers for him, only days for me,” she corrected, while resisting the impulse to take his hand.

“Does he speak falsely when he boasts of you being from an impending summer, then?” He questioned as the back of his hand grazed hers. The answering pulse that surged through her provoked every short hair on her body to uncurl.

She glanced at him from the outer cut of her eye. “Nope. He speak facts. I’m from the year 2009 or as Niklaus would say nine and two thousand.”

Kol’s eyes almost leaped from their damned sockets. Elijah slid into position on her other side, and inserted himself into the conversation. “I have encountered you afore.”

Her stomach committed to winning the gold for flips-flops and somersaults at the implication that Elijah just may feel their connection. On a higher level, could he somehow know her? “Yeah, you have.”

“If I’m not in error, Tatia and I came upon you and Niklaus engaged in a rather unseemly tryst two summers passed,” he said.

“Busted.” She exhaled her disappointment. “Yep, that was me.”

Elijah inclined his head as he took her arm to help her over a few stones on the path. As soon as his hand made contact her magic hurtled to the elbow he cradled in his palm and expelled a jolt which jarred her to the gristle. His hand fell away as a groan escaped his wide open mouth.

“Sorry, Elijah. My magic always gets a little off the leash when you’re near.” She gave him a sideways glance. “For what it’s worth, though, you love that shit.”

He stumbled. “I beseech your pardon?”

“Oh away with you, Elijah.” Kol attempted to shoo him with a wave of the hand. He then returned his stare to her. “He’s a slave to propriety and openly rebuffs brazen behavior in maidens. He did damsels a great favor when he wed Tatia last spring.” The fuck? She damn near broke her neck attempting to check Elijah’s finger for a ring. “I for one find your speech to be quite engaging, little witch.”

“Call me Bonnie, Toots. Only Niklaus calls me little witch.” Her caution slipped and before she could check herself she playfully bumped his hip with hers. She hadn’t realized what she’d done until Ayana’s severe expression checked her.

After her misstep, they continued on in silence. During which time Bonnie tried harder than a pimp in a nunnery to censor herself. Where the hell was her swear jar when she needed the dame thing? Probably somewhere in the twenty-first century running the fuck over. When they made it to the clearing the sounds of Niklaus’ pissed off bellows greeted them.

_“You’ve ruined me you, duplicitous bitch!”_

_“Niklaus, please!” Esther pleaded. “You must hear me.”_

Ayana turned to wave her hand at Elijah and Kol. “Hurry to your mother’s aid.”

The brothers raced ahead, leaving them to jog behind at a much slower human pace. By the time they entered the tiny hut, Niklaus had Esther’s back pinned to his chest, while a clawed hand rested at her throat. Elijah stood a few paces away from them, pleading with hands raised and palms out. While Kol looked on with a cold clinical indifference.

Bonnie pushed her way further into the hut as she had an attack of the bubble guts. She was literally on the verge of being scared shitless. Over the past few weeks without noticing Esther had come to mean more than nothing to her. The thought of losing her upset her magic to its foundation.

“Niklaus,” she slipped between Elijah and Kol to stand only a foot or so away from him.

“Little w-witch,” he sputtered. “I thought…”

“What the fuck are you doing? She’s your mom.” She tore her stretch wide stare from Esther’s tear drenched face to look at him. Wild eyes drilled into hers while flashes of his vampire nature compromised his mask of humanity. “Do you know what kind of fucking animal kills their mother?”

“Me!” He growled. “I am the monster she has fashioned me into being.”

Taking a step closer, she shook her head. “No matter who or what you think you are now, you have to believe me when I say you’re not that monster, Niklaus.”

“But you cannot fathom what she has done.” His voice left his mouth fractured under the weight of a shit ton of hurt and betrayal.

The tears that glinted his eyes like polished jewels, broke the most guarded part of her. “She saved your life, Niklaus. Besides, I would’ve did the same damn thing if your fuck wad of a father had hit me with those choices.”

“He’s not my father!” He yelled as his nails bit into Esther’s neck. Blood pooled to the surface and submerged the tips of his fingernails in the deep red fluid. “In some sense I believe he knew. My shifting into a wolf merely confirmed his doubts.” A tear trickled from one of his eyes. “He regarded me with such contempt. Beat me for the most mundane offenses. All because of her lies!”

“Those lies were necessary, Niklaus.” Esther rasped. “He would have abandoned you to the elements had he discovered the truth of your parentage. I could not allow such a thing to occur. I did what I must, just as I did this moon rise.”

“You crippled me!”

“She protected you!” Bonnie yelled, drawing his attention back to her. “And again, I would’ve done the same fucking thing!”

His eyes bulged. “You would see me hobbled?” Reignited fury completely singed away his tears along with his human façade. Veins and fangs corrupted his godly beauty. “Why?!” He roared.

“Because I’d rather have half of you than fucking none of you!” She screamed back, taking another step forward. “And there’s still a chance to fix this, but if you kill her, then there’s no fixing anything.”

Placing a palm to his face, Bonnie cupped his cheek. Niklaus’ features gradually reclaimed its humanity. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from Esther’s neck. Once she was out of danger, Elijah zipped forth to pull her to safety. Bonnie then stepped into the spot his mother vacated, and wrapped herself around him.

Amber, sandalwood and a smidge of wildness seduced her nostrils. The press of his hard body against hers attempted to slay her focus, but with all the fuckery unfolding she managed to push her— _he can get it_ —thoughts to the back of her mind. Instead, she welcomed the weight of his arms as they encircled her and cuddled her closer.

“Where has Finn, Rebekah, and Henrik displaced themselves?” Ayana questioned.

“I sent them to the village to gather provisions for travel,” Esther said, her voice still a bit hoarse. “Mikael will not burn indefinitely, and when his flames fade we would do well to already be at sea.” She broke free of Elijah’s embrace to flit around the two room hut. “We must resume gathering our essential belongings.”

“Afore you continue with the storing of your goods we should have words,” Ayana said as her gaze slid from Esther to Bonnie. “The courses which were altered this moon rising stirred fate to labor an unrealized prophecy into existence. It’s imperative we prepare ourselves.”

* * *

 

Niklaus’ eyes traced the uneven set of Bonnie’s jaw line as his drawing pencil committed her loveliness to the pages of his sketch pad. She lay prone on his bed, her comely face turned towards him. Nothing but gloriously golden brown skin and a thin linen draped low over her rounded hips, covered her faultless person.

Her inherent allure enflamed his cock to the point of agony. Were he not in his adoptive son’s body, he’d bury himself within her confining slicken channel, prophecy be damned. His gaze shifted from her jawline to the curvilinear lines that fashioned the unforgettable shape of her mouth. A recollection of the laurel tang which flavored her tongue enthused his embezzled body.

He tore his stare from her enviable lower lip and skimmed his scrutiny over her toned arm to admire each one of her brilliant little fingers. A flash of amber however pilfered his notice. Setting his sketch pad and pencil away, he stood and zipped over the bed. Confusion wrinkled his brow. The Bennett Talisman? Where the devil did that come from? He reached down to pluck it from her palm. The moment his fingers grazed the amber stone, reality exploded and bloody rewound itself.

* * *

 

Greta awakened to find herself wedged between the driver and passenger seat. Every part of her throbbed like she’d just gone balls to the wall through the wrong side of a barn. Smoke and burnt rubber seared the inner lining of her nostrils and scorched the back of her throat. A blaring noise intensified the pounding in her head. Her eyes opened and she came face to face with a wide eyed Dacklin. A shovel protruded from his forehead as his chest pressed against the horn of the steering wheel.

“Are you satisfied? They’re both dead and there’s no coffin,” Lucy’s voice met her ears.

“Yeah, well I’ll have to take your word about them parlaying on the other side. I can’t hear a damn thing over that fucking honking. Look, I know you think this is a waste of time, but I don’t do loose ends.” An unfamiliar voice replied. “The last thing I need is her surviving and running back to tell her lunatic boyfriend I’m not in that damn tomb.”

“Yeah well, are you good?” Lucy’s voice drifted to her from the passenger window.

“Check the damn attitude, Bennett.” The voices began to drift away. “And don’t act as if I’m the only one benefiting from the Martin witch catching her cut. Now you can spin the narrative when and if Klaus turns up.”

Moments later she heard a car engine spark to life and drive away. She waited a full minute, and then struggled to sit up. A sharp pain pierced her side, while a searing burn assaulted her wrist. Breathing through the hurt, she glanced down and discovered a jagged glass fragment from the windshield embedded in her upper left abdomen, just beneath her breast. When she reached down to withdraw the glass she spotted the Bennett magical brand on her wrist. She’d been hexed. Her vision tunneled.

“Shit,” she muttered, before glancing over her shoulder to the coffin.

Greta sent up a silent prayer her cloaking spell held. Her heart bled to think what she would’ve done if they discovered Klaus. Though, he was far from being safe. She needed to perform the spell before she passed out, or worse, Lucy and whoever came back.

She tossed her bag in the storage area, and damn near finished herself off when she climbed over the seat to follow. After the shooting sharp pain subsided, she opened the coffin lid. She took a second or ten to stare at him, while silently hoping this wasn’t the last time she’d see him on this side of the veil.

With shaky hands she opened his mouth and poured in the mixture. Once she emptied the vial, she began to chant. Even as black spots peppered her vision, she recited each syllable with every bit of passion and magic that resided in her body. After the last words left her lips she gave herself over to the gathering darkness.

* * *

 

“Mother says we are to leave here.” Niklaus whispered as he stared at the opposing side of the hut with a gaze often used by the unseeing. “I ponder what is to become of us.” His crystal blue gaze swung to consider her. “Or to those with whom we are aquainted. My family and I are monsters who gorge themselves on the blood of humans. You are not secure in our presence. Just query my mate Evar.”

She reached for his hand. He flinched, but he allowed her fingers to interlace with his. A quiver crept down her spine. There was no warmth left in his touch. Only the cool chill of the undead remained. She, however, didn’t care. His unblinking stare still had the capability of setting fire to her magic. Her gaze dawdled over his profile and the arrogantly stubborn clench of his jawline. The quiver changed courses as it crept a little lower. She was glad his family and Ayana had left them alone for the time being. The last thing she wanted was for someone to witness her death by thirst.

“I’m not scared of you, Niklaus.” Her magic surged to the surface of her skin. “So stop stressing so much. You and your family will be fine.”

His eyes rolled, before consternation drove him to look away. “How will we be fine, when we are so utterly anything but?” He paused. When she refused to go back and forth with him he continued. “And you should be wary of me, little witch. You should be wary of us all. We are not those with whom you are familiar. For even now your mystical lifeblood croons to me.”

He lifted their hands to his face, and then slowly ran his nose down her wrist. Her lungs shut down shop, while her Pop Rocker took it upon himself to start an intense round of Kegels. Niklaus froze as he side eyed the hell out of her. His pupil was so dilated she could barely see the blue of his iris. The quiver transcended into a tremble. Yet, instead of pissing herself a whole other flood saturated the tops of her thighs. His nostrils twitched.

“Does the fragrance which scents the air belong to you, little witch?” Before she could compose a clever clap back he shoved her back on his pallet of animal furs.

“Um…” She managed as she stared up at the low hanging ceiling of the hut.

Seconds later he obstructed her view by looming over her. All while making snuffling sounds as he continued to suck in unneeded amounts of air through his nose and mouth. His actions instigated more hot need to gush from her Pop Rocker. When simply inhaling the air stop being enough, he buried his face in the curve of her neck. After a few minutes of nuzzling one of her trigger spots, he descended her body drawing in deep breaths as he went until he reached her lower half. There, he pressed his face into her old tattered skirts and sucked in a shit ton of air. He looked up and his now blood red stare collided with hers to convey his plea.

She opened her mouth to say hell no, instead something else altogether came bubbling forth. “Okay, but you have to be quick and-,”

Before she could finish he was under her skirt burying his face in the apex of her thighs. His tongue thrust into the crevice of right thigh. More lust oozed from her core and snatched his focus. She felt his face move to the source of all their troubles.

“Niklaus, Mother has ask we gather at Ayana’s-…oh!” Henrik stood frozen in the make shift doorway with wide eyes and an even wider mouth.

She snatched her skirts from over Niklaus’ head and attempted to shove him from between her legs. “Okay, we were just coming…uh, on our way out. We were just on our way out.” Henrik bobbed his head to assure her he understood.

After several seconds of nudging Niklaus, he moved and let her stand. Once on her feet she hurried across the tiny space and damn near ran the youngest Mikaelson down on her way out of the hut.

“A thousand apologies for the interruption, Niklaus. Had I known you were feasting I would’ve delayed myself,” was the last thing she heard before running out of hearing distance.

* * *

 

As Niklaus tumbled through time significant periods of his life replayed themselves all about him. His birth, first steps, first time he spoke, first beating by the hand of his father and the first time he held a sword. All of these events whirled before him in an attached procession until one moment over took them all.

In the recollection he was a boy of eight summers, who’d done the unthinkable and spilt an entire day’s worth of milk. He recalled Mikael giving him a sound beating for the transgression. The blows his step father dealt on that occasion were hardly worth noting. During that thrashing he’d only suffered a bruised eye.

Niklaus watched as Mikael berated his younger self, when the bastard raised an exacting hand he braced himself for the strike. Before the blow greeted him though, a very familiar little witch came tearing from the forest. Forgotten memories reacquainted themselves with his mind as the scene changed from what he’d always held to be true, to something he should’ve always known. He remembered his little witch! Though, how could he have ever misremembered her?

Just as her deviltry launched Mikael into a tree, he was once again tossed rearwards. This time he discovered himself under the white oak tree with Bonnie.

 _“Little Witch? Why do you insist on calling me that? I’m bigger than you,”_ Bonnie’s haughty tone rekindled the darkened pathways of his misplaced memories. Once again they flared to life, reestablishing themselves as confirmed history.

_“Yes, but not for long. However, my gratitude is still yours to claim, Little Witch.”_

Soon after, she’d abandoned him. Yet, in the passing summers he could never rally the resolve to do the same to her. Even when others implored him to cease his childish ramblings of avenging witches, he still returned to the white oak tree in hopes of seeing her once more. As he moved to ponder the memory further, the spirits of days gone by once again absconded with him.

This time he was thrust into a memory which consisted of him and his long since departed brother Henrik. They were training in the woods. It was the same day his baby brother was slain by the wolves. He couldn’t watch, for he knew once Henrik’s training completed he’d beg to stay out later to see their lupine neighbors transform. However, that’s not what happened. A few minutes into Henrik’s drills…

_“Hey, did either of you happen to see a little dirty faced blonde boy limping around here? I went to find help and when I came back he was gone.”_

Things he’s always known to be fact became flagrant fiction. Henrik didn’t perish the day before the full moon on his fourteenth spring. No the scamp returned to their mother so he could have an unchaperoned moment with the witch. He attempted to reflect upon what he’d just discovered only to be propelled through a series of varying memories.

Each memory spun tales of him and the witch. He saw the first time she’d plundered his mouth with hers. His mind even evoked the taste of her lips. He recalled her look of distress when Elijah and Tatia happened upon them and how she tumbled out of existence soon after. He remembered her sitting with him the first and only time he shifted into a wolf. The reassurance and comfort she lent him still resonated deep within…

_“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. No matter what form you’re in you’ll always be beautiful to me…Everything is going to be fine. I’m a witch and you’re a wolf. I know it’s sheer madness, but we’re going to figure out all of this fuckery…together.”_

However the most compelling moment of all was when she faced down Mikael with the fires of Tartarus blazing from her eyes. She defeated the arrogant whoreson without lending much thought or effort to her actions. Her sorcery was unmatched. And her words…

_“I’ll always stand for you, Niklaus. I promise.”_

She was his and she had said as much herself. As he kneeled to admire the compelling angles of her off-putting features, he once again fell victim to his redefining history. This time he discovered himself in the clearing of his family’s farm. Bonnie rushed pass him headed in the direction of Ayana’s quarters. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils, and without thought he gave chase. By the moment he made it to Ayana’s, Bonnie was seated near Rebekah next to the fire.

He moved to enter, but Ayana stepped in his path. “Now is not the moment to know all, Niklaus.” And with those words expressed realism collapsed in on itself.

His lids opened. All was dark, save an artificial glow. A deafening honking violated his unrivaled auditory senses. Senses he could only claim if he’d returned to his original form. Impossible! He stilled. Greta and he hadn’t spoken since he’d taken on Marcel’s person. He lifted his arms, pale skin collided with his sightline. Utilizing his vampire speed, he sat upright to glance his surroundings. He was inside his coffin which had been stored in the back of a derelict SUV.

Chancing a look over his shoulder, he spied a human male with a shovel protruding from his skull. Glass from the windshield embedded itself in his face and neck. The engine still purred with life, despite its front end collision with a rust ridden tractor. His gaze swung from the front of the vehicle to consider the shattered rear window. The ancient mouthwatering scent of Bennett magic incited his supernatural senses. Lucy? Greta’s fragrant witch blood alerted the predator in him, all was not well.

“Klaus,” Greta’s weakened voice called to him from the floor of the storage area.

At original speed, he abandoned his coffin to crowd close at Greta’s side. Gently, he shifted her limp frame into his arms, before tearing into his wrist and feeding her his blood. As he pulled back to assess her injuries a jagged edge snared his shirt. A glass shard had punctured her side. He removed the offending object without delay. Instead of closing, the wound continued to ooze. Concern mercilessly knitted his brows together.

“Klaus,” she croaked.

“Why aren’t you healing?” She raised her arm. The magical symbol of the Bennetts’ was etched into her inner wrist. He forced his eyes back to her drooping gaze. The familiar burn of betrayal took root at the center of his immortality. “Who hexed you, love?” His back teeth clenched as he waited for his paramour to level the charge.

“Lucy,” She managed to say just before her eyes reclosed.

* * *

 

As Bonnie sat next to Rebekah, she snuck sideway glances at the blonde when she wasn’t looking. Random bullshit slipped from her lips every so often to capture her girl’s attention, but other than a few fake smiles, Beks ignored her for the most part. After her third failed attempt to spark conversation, Kol sat down next to her.

“What sort of era is your, nine and two thousand, where maidens can openly yearn for other maidens in the full view of all?” He whispered next to her ear.

Her eyes rolled. Why the fuck was he whispering? Almost everyone in the room was a vampire with supersonic hearing. As if queued Rebekah glanced at her, offering her a polite smile that promised absolutely nothing. While Elijah turned to regard her with an indifferent expression and unreadable eyes. Embarrassment roasted the hell out her cakes. She knew like hell, Kol didn’t have her in 999 looking like a dry mouthed Original groupie. Her glare swung to him with the full intention of fileting his shit starting ass. He returned her death glare with his signature smirk and a provoking sable stare.

“2009 is the sort of era where people mind their own damn business. Why don’t you skip your ass off and practice for the future, Toots,” she said, before angling away from him. He’d thoroughly pissed her dry and for the moment she was sooo good on him.

The make shift door swung open. Henrik and Niklaus entered. The younger Mikaelson gave her a nod, before averting his gaze. Red stained his cheeks as he crossed the limited space to stand next to Elijah, while the elder Mikaelson opted to stand next to the door refusing to make eye contact with anyone, including her.

“He’s often despondent when troubled,” Rebekah said, sliding a little closer to her. “Elijah spoke of how you came to mother’s aid. My gratitude is yours …”

“Bonnie,” she said, feeling a little…shy? “Call me Bonnie.”

Rebekah attempted another smile, but the corners of her mouth just couldn’t seem to make the trip north. “Niklaus’ character in not usually one of vicious intent. However, since we became…inhuman.” Her tortured gaze flew to the blonde brooding Mikaelson by the door. “Our sentiments are embellished.”

"Embellished?" Kol snorted. “Last rising a hound from the neighboring farm trampled Bekah’s blossom patch and she slaughtered all of the occupants on the bordering grange. Curiously, she allowed the hound to live,” he whispered, while attempting to play with a lock of her hair. She slapped his hands away.

“Cease your prattle, plague sore,” Rebekah hissed. Quicker than Bonnie’s eyes could track, the blonde plunged an iron poker in Kol’s thigh.

His face dissolved into bloody eyes, writhing veins, and salivating fangs. “Bekah!”

“Rebekah and Kol, you were not bred as savages. Conclude cavorting as such,” Ayana reprimanded.

Rebekah’s face crumpled. “Yes, Ayana.”

“Yes, Ayana.” Kol removed the poker from his thigh and dropped it next to him.

“Although the Bennetts and Debenhams-,”

“Who the shit break is the Debenhams?” The question bogarded its way out before Bonnie could press her lips together.

“Debenham is mother’s maiden name,” Elijah supplied.

“ _Although, the Bennetts and Debenhams_ has long since known Nature’s ire,” Ayana spared them a look that spoke volumes about her not coming there to play or be interrupted. Authority, purpose, and prehistoric mystical energy swirled around her as she stepped in the center of the room. “We’ve never experienced the full weight of her wrath. From this moon rising forth, this will no longer hold true. Our station in the supernatural procession is altered. The pathway which now lies before our families will be broken and riddled with hardships.”

“Permit me to clarify,” Kol shifted closer to her as he raised a finger to Ayana. “Mother and father commits filicide in an attempt to squander death, which only served to alienate Nature who in turn retaliated by not only severing our connection to our sorcery but also the natural world. A thousand apologies, Ayana, but it does not require foresightedness to comprehend our pathway is already broken and bears the burden of hardships.”

The tremor in Kol’s voice provoked her to grab his hand. Instead of pulling away, his fingers interlaced with hers and locked there palms together.

“My son you have not an inkling of the misfortunes the mother of all will bestow now she considers us all her adversaries. As Ayana professed afore, Nature’s rancor has been ever present in regards to our families. And yet even in the face of her indignation I have obediently served her. Had she not saw fit to target my children, I’d still be a loyal servant of maintaining the balance,” Esther assured. She moved to join Ayana in the center of the room.

“Mother, I am mindful enough to discern Freya’s…death was difficult on you and father. Death, however, is part of life’s natural order. Your unreasonable paranoia has driven you to do the inconceivable,” Finn’s voice drifted from a darkened corner of the room. “Nature is quite justified in seeking retribution.”

“Unreasonable paranoia!” Esther tsked. She straightened herself to her full five feet and eight inches as her artic glare narrowed on Finn. “Sister, has the quarters been warded so we may freely converse?”

“All is well. You may speak without censor,” Ayana said, before taking a step back.

“When your father and I wed, our attempts to bare babes was spurned by nature,” Esther began. “For nigh two summers we endeavored to no avail. When all else failed, I sought out my sister Dahlia.”

“Sister?” Rebekah questioned.

Esther nodded. “She was my elder sister.” She took a moment to pause. “Our sisterhood grew estranged, however, after I wed your father.”

Elijah left his position by the wall to move closer. “Why did you seek her out?”

“Dahlia is also witch.” Esther clasped her hands together and began wringing them. Her feet shuffled as her gaze shifted about the hut. “A powerful witch to be sure. More powerful than I in verity. She excelled in the dark arts and I required magical intervention which communed beyond the realms of nature magic.” A slight shrug bobbed her shoulder, while her chin rose a fraction of an inch higher. “After some period of imploring her for assistance with filling my womb with child Dahlia agreed, but not before she told me there would be a price.”

“A price?” Kol squeezed her hand. “What price?”

“Silence, Kol,” Finn seethed, hurtling to his feet. His gaze softened as it returned to Esther. “Continue mother.”

Tears brimmed her lower lids, while a smile trembled at the corners of her mouth. “Foolishly I disregarded her forewarning, and all but misremembered it the following winter when I was heavy with child. I didn’t recall her caveat again until Freya fell ill with plague. I then realized, Nature meant to dispatch my faultless babe for the sole purpose of reestablishing balance to her scales.” Her head swung from side to side in tiny quick shakes. “I couldn’t permit the fickle bitch to have her way.” Tears overran the barrier of her lower lids and trickled down her face. “So I sent for Dahlia, but by the time she appeared my first born was near her end.”

“So she perished,” Rebekah whispered.

“Before the eyes of Nature.” Esther sighed as her stare strayed to the burning sage by the make shift door. “Yet before the eyes of her mother, brother, and aunt, she thrived. Dahlia healed her with changeling magic and cloaked her from Nature’s notice with aid from the dark arts.”

“Our sister lives?” Niklaus spoke for the first time. Bonnie’s magic sizzled within her vessels at the sound of his voice.

“Yes,” Finn confirmed.

Kol scoffed. “You knew, of course!”

“Mother, where is she?” A hint of excitement flared in Rebekah’s voice.

“Your duplicity wands on without nary a hope of a true moment,” Niklaus’ indicting stare bore into Esther.

Esther sighed and continued on, all while ignoring the blistering heat of her younger son’s resentment. “In this my duplicity was warranted. It was crucial I remained silent over what verily happened to Freya. For the benefit of her fate and yours. Your elder sister’s conception was fostered by dark magic. Its mystical energy branded her very being as such.”

“So you abandoned her to the rubbish pile for being a victim of your indiscretion,” Klaus bellowed. Every inch of him appeared to tremble. Bonnie rose and crossed the hut to stand next him. Instinctively his arm wrapped around her and drew her into his side.

Ayana clucked her tongue. “Allow you mother to speak until conclusion, Niklaus.”

“Nay, I sacrificed my role in her life in hopes of saving you all.” Esther hammered back. “Though your conceptions were natural each of your magic still has the taint of dark deviltry. For it was the dark arts which rendered my wound viable. And each of your quickenings explicated the truth of your origins. By the period of Henrik’s magical summit, the vilest visions of all your demises afflicted me from rising to setting.” She waved a hand at the youngest Mikaelson. “If I’d allowed fate to have her way, Henrik would’ve perished two springs passed.”

“Perish!” Henrik gasped as his wide chocolate brown gaze wandered to each of his siblings. “Is that still to be fate then, mother?”

“Not now, Henrik!” She slapped a hand to her chest, glaring at them all in challenge. “So once again I did what was required to save you all. Had I not, Nature would have butchered each and every one of you for your dubious beginnings.”

“Which also holds true for the Bennetts.” Ayana’s scrutiny discovered Bonnie. “For an offense committed by an ancestor of our line, we are made to suffer Nature’s wrath as well. To always be displeasing in her eyes. Yet, the prophecy which revealed itself made me privy to the error of my beliefs. Nature does not spurn us for past indiscretions committed by our ancestors.” Condemnation strengthened her voice as certitude glimmered her nut brown eyes. She slowly turned to regard the room. “She holds us in contempt, because she fears what is to come. The Mikaelson and Bennett lines will merge and in due course usurp Nature’s governance over supernatural affairs. It has been foretold.”


	12. Chapter 12

“This is not going to be enough.”

Lucy Bennett’s eyes rolled at Katherine’s—preschool obvious—assessment. Damn right, killing the Martin witch wasn’t going to be enough. Nature wanted her cousin dead and Klaus. Body dropping Greta and her jackass driver meant nothing in the grand scheme of the game. The revolutionary war between Nature and the supernatural rebels would still jump off without a fucking hiccup.

“You think?” She allowed the sarcasm drenched verbal jab to slide easily from the side of her mouth as she readjusted herself in the passenger seat of the stolen Porsche.

Katherine gave her major side-eye. “Keep talking to me wrong, Lucy, and Nature will have her dead Bennett witch. Maybe not the one she wants, but you’ll still be cold and stiff just the same.”

“Bitch, _please_ come for it!” Lucy jerked her head around to face Katherine full on. She’d had enough of her best friend’s super greasy mouth. “Klaus will be the _last_ of your motherfucking worries. By the time I’m done blazing your ass, you’ll be sparking brighter than the night sky on the fourth of July.”

“Look, this back and forth is nonsense,” Katherine snapped, while chancing her a glance. “Not only do we still have a Klaus sized problem on our asses, but Nature’s going to want it on sight when she finds out you didn’t get his body.”

“Yeah well, I’m not the only one fucking up,” she mumbled, while rolling her eyes to glare out the window.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Why’s my cousin still alive, Kat?” She bit out. “How difficult can it be to body one tiny witch who doesn’t know her own magic from static electricity?”

“Oh suck me dry, Bennett. You try putting hands on a witch who has the entire original family shoved up her snatch,” Katherine growled. “Hell, even Damon Salvatore is running interference. He saved her you know.” The volume of her voice soared. “Had it not been for his annoying thirsty-,”

“Fuck your lazy ass excuses, Katherine! No one wants to hear your bullshit tales of almost. Not me and damn sure not Nature.”

Lucy folded her arms across her chest on the subject. If they didn’t make all of their chaos go to plan soon Nature threatened to send her baby sister on a one way trip to the other side. Which wasn’t at all surprising, seeing as the Bennett’s had been on the mother of all’s shit list since the dawn of magic.

She couldn’t count how many of her relatives had caught their cut by unnatural means. The Bennett’s departure from the living read like a _Final Destination_ script. Each death was more ridiculous than the last. What could be said other than Nature was a petty bitch who didn’t forget a damn thing?

“Bitch, I’m done,” Katherine’s head swung from side to side, “Your cousin is going in the ground tonight. Maybe if we sideline her, the mother of all things trivial will be satisfied and move the hell on to someone that’s not us.”

“See, now that’s your got damn problem right there. You’re always trying to half-ass some shit, and then hope for the best.” She tore her gaze from the window to glare at Katherine. “Her emissaries ran us her orders kindergarten style. Kill Bonnie and bring her Klaus. Period! Anything other than that is going to get my sister snatched to the other side and you...” She jabbed a finger at the brunette, “well I don’t exactly know what your motives are for doing any of this. What the hell does she have on you anyway?”

“Don’t even! You’re my bitch and that’s all the motive I-,” the vampire’s eyes flared, and then narrowed on the road ahead. “Shit.”

Lucy tore her glare from Katherine’s profile to regard the windshield. Two dark figures draped from wigs to footwear in Harry Potter cloaks stood in the middle of the street. The moonlight at their backs outlined their frames, making it hard to see their faces. Her eyes rolled closed. Fuck! Their time was up.

* * *

 

“Where will your journey meet its end?” Ayana questioned as her soulful browns scrutinized Esther’s unlined but clearly worried face.

The younger witch raised and dropped her shoulders. “Sister, I know not.”

“Well lay your fears to rest. All will be revealed at the just moment.” Ayana offered Esther an encouraging smile. “However, if you’re seeking guidance in your travels, then Thalia should be your initial sojourn along the way,” she took Esther’s hand. “Though she may already suspect, you should enlighten her on the prophecy. Asides, there are no greater allies than family and if we are to engage the mother of all in battle it would not do us great harm to rely upon Thalia’s sorcery for assistance in our endeavor.”

“Ayana’s counsel is strategically sound, mother. It is never too premature to begin fortifying our cause,” Elijah said, while moving to position himself at his mother’s side. His gaze then discovered Bonnie’s and held. Under his consideration the scratchy potato sack she wore became unbearable, her hands moved to claw at her chest. “Which escorts us to initiating the foretelling.”

“And how are we to provoke the prophecy, Elijah?” Henrik questioned from his opposing side of the hut.

“By merging the Bennett and Mikaelson’s magical lines,” he answered with his gaze still fastened on her. “Which of my siblings is to wed your Bonnie?”

“A prophecy cannot be instigated afore it is readied and Bonnie may not be the prophesized Bennett in question,” Ayana countered.

“W-what?” Bonnie sputtered as she broke free of Niklaus’ hold, while scratching at her underarms. “But-,”

“Aye.” Ayana slammed brakes on her protest with a raised hand. “Bonnie’s sorcery is indeed matchless. She, however, may very well be the product of both our families.”

Like hell! There was no way—in the Terrence Howard—she was related to the Mikaelsons. Hell, the things she’d done with most of the members of the family could get her arrested and committed after that. Nope, Ayana was gonna have to snatch that one back and try it again.

“Granted,” Her gaze skipped from Ayana to Esther and back. “I may not be the prophesized Bennett witch, but there’s no shitty way in hell I’m related to the Mikaelsons. So how about we move it right along to the next topic.” Her pointed stare swung to Elijah. “Once you run across the Bennett from the prophecy—whether it’s me or a distant relative—Niklaus will get it in on the night of her quickening. Once he ordains her magic, his wolf and sorcery will be unbound.”

“Such claims are fanciful?” Esther gasped with a face full of disbelief. “Why, Kol’s sorcery is unrivaled. What was the title you bestowed upon him, sister?” Her bulging stare flicked to Ayana.

“Prodigy.” Ayana supplied without pomp.

“Prodigy!” Esther blustered a bit, before managing to continue. “If anyone is to take charge in the battle against nature it would be he!”

Annoyance tooted Bonnie’s lips. She loved Kol’s filthy underwear, but Esther needed to chill on Niklaus. “If it’s a lie then you’d be the one who told it.” She spun on her heel to consider Niklaus. He stared back with radiating eyes that roasted every inch of her face. She swallowed and attempted to pull her thoughts together as she scratched at her thighs. “Once you’ve ordained the witch’s magic, you’ll be able to sire immortal witches, wolves and awaken the traits in others who suffers from the affliction of vampirism,” her eyes moved back to Esther, “or so I’ve heard.”

“If said witch is not you, then I will not have her, little witch.” He pushed one of her— _on the fly_ —waves behind her ear, and then cupped her cheek in his palm. Without a hint of shame, she nuzzled his hand.

“Halt! Niklaus will be able to assist us in reclaiming our deviltry?” Kol shot to his feet and slayed their moment. His face was more hopeful than she’d ever seen it.

Her head bobbed. “Yeah, that’s what Mrs. Mikaelson says.”

“What? I have never-,” Esther began.

“The other Mrs. Mikaelson…you know, the thousand year old you…” Bonnie wanted to say, _the ready version_ , but she allowed it to hang over them unsaid.

Esther’s mouth fell open, and for the first time since Bonnie had met her, the Mikaelson matriarch ran the hell out of words. She didn’t even attempt to sound out a letter.

“One thousand summers hence! Mother still subsists?” Finn addressed her for the first time. “How can this be true? Does she inflict this curse upon herself?”

Her eyes lowered more out of habit than respect. She then gave her brain a mental shake. This wasn’t _master_ Mikaelson. At least not yet. “No, she’s still a witch-,”

“Enough,” Ayana clucked her tongue, “It will not bode well to speak of forthcoming risings. Basing deliberations upon impending occurrences will only serve to upset the path Fate has already set.” The elder Bennett witch then extended her hand to Esther and Bonnie. “Come, we must sanctify this gathering, so you all may resume readying yourselves for travel.” Kol moved to take her free hand. “Many apologies, Kol. You are no longer a witch, your current aura would distress the sanctification rite.” Her gaze then snapped to the youngest of the Mikaelsons. “Henrik, come.”

As Henrik took possession of Bonnie’s hand, she couldn’t force herself to tear her regard from Kol. He looked as if his world had been snatched. Did some stupid sanctification rite (whatever the hell that was) mean so much to him? Once Ayana completed a lyrical chant, and the prayer circle dispersed, Bonnie moved to follow Kol from the hut, but Ayana held firm to her hand.

“We should share words that journeys no further than you and I,” Ayana said as she watched the last of the Mikaelsons exit the hut.

When they were alone, Ayana dropped her hand and hurried over to retrieve the sage candle. She began waving it around the exit, once satisfied with whatever the hell she’d done, she replaced the chunk of wax by the makeshift door.

Bonnie released a sigh before attempting to shove her hands into her back pockets. Her palms, however, greeted the harsh material of the potato sack dress she wore. “So who do you think the prophesized Bennett will be?” She asked, forcing conversation.

Ayana stared at her as if she’d just told her about space aliens who got off on probing lady parts. “Do not be witless. You are the Bennett Witch of the prophecy.”

“But you just said-,”

Ayana flapped a hand in her face that halted her words. “That was for their benefits.” She jerked her head over her shoulder. “They need to seek out and safeguard every Bennett Witch who dwells in clandestine places. It is the only course of action which will ensure your conception.”

Bonnie’s eyes narrowed as she tracked each expression that tugged at Ayana’s attention grabbing features. She sensed there was another reason the older woman insisted on speaking to her alone. “Speak your mind, Ayana. What is this private meeting of the Bennett Witches really about?”

“You will eventually have to pilfer their memories of you,” Ayana said as she clasped her hands together in front of her. “The task should be carried out the summer afore you are conceived.”

Bonnie’s eyes slipped closed, before she said the only thing left to say. “Fuckery, fucking, fuck!”

* * *

 

“And once they’re hard, I’m gonna bite them.” Rebekah’s eyes rolled closed at Stefan’s whispered promise next to her ear. A moan pirouetted from the split of her lips as he continued. “But not hard, though. I’ll nip at them with just enough pressure to make her squirm for more.” He drove his fingers deeper into her, while massaging her pearl with just the right burden of added stimulation.

“Her breasts are quite succulent, Ripper,” she whimpered. The walls of her core clenched around his plunging digits. “Wait until you see the dark chocolate tipped lovelies. You’ll adore her as much as I do…if not more,” she finished in a gasping whisper.

She felt his head incline in a nod, while he nuzzled her neck. “I’m gonna bend her over and fuck her right in front of you.” He increased the speed of his fingers and she came nigh close to ripping strands of hair from his scalp. “As my dick slides against her soaking wet trembling walls, she’ll scream both of our names. Over…” He added another finger and all the ties and fastenings which held her together began to come undone. One after the other. “And over…and-,”

The double doors to the yellow tea room slammed open. “Rebekah.”

Bloody Elijah! He stood in the entryway with an arched brow, while remaining ever judging. His critical glare travelled over her and Stefan. The compulsion to pluck out his eyes captured her unawares.

“Blast it, Elijah!” She seethed as the building force of her orgasm declined to nil. “This room is very much so occupied, brother.”

Elijah ignored her and strolled further into the tea chamber. “Do you perchance know where Bonnie may have misplaced herself? We were meant to engage here, yet I don’t sense her anywhere about the house.”

Elijah wandered over to the wet bar. Bloody hell! Her eyes rolled until they crossed. He intended to linger.

“That’s because she’s not in the house,” Finn said from his seat in a dark corner of the room.

Her brows snapped together. When the devil did he make an appearance? She swatted Stefan’s hand from under her cheerleading skirt. Upon reflection, perhaps she should’ve selected attire more fitting of her mother’s favored tea room. Yet, Stefan so adored when she donned her cheer team garb.

To maintain some semblance of demureness, she began to straighten the pleats of her skirt, while attempting to dismiss the sight of Stefan lapping at his fingers. She cleared her throat as a distraction of sorts.

“Why would _you_ concern yourself over Bonnie’s current whereabouts?” She dragged her fingers through her hair as she perforated Finn with a disdainful glare. “You’ve never went to grand lengths to disturb yourself over those who proceeded her.”

“It is my allocated day to prepare, Ms. Bennett. She’s nigh four hours in arrears of our appointed time,” he said with an utterly expressionless face. Were it not for the slight snap of his teeth his mounting anger would’ve journeyed by unnoticed.

She and Elijah exchanged quizzical glances, before she returned her scrutiny to Finn. “You’re taking part in Bonnie’s preparation as well?” Each word left her mouth in a slow and measured crawl.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, Rebekah, but yes. Mother and I thought my involvement would do the witch well. She is in grave need of refining. Why, her propensity to verbalize the most vulgar phrases demands my rather,” he raised his chin and proceeded to peer down his nose at her, “unconventional talents.”

Unconventional talents? She chuckled. Finn applied the very meaning to carnal oppression. She couldn’t recalled the last time her eldest brother sought out female companionship. Why, he could very well be the world’s oldest virgin.

“Well, I for one find my eternal lover’s shocking terminology obscenely refreshing. And I’d maim anyone who endeavored to alter her,” Kol said as he entered from the verandah doors. His pets Celeste and Amerie were tucked away under each of his arms. He glanced about, his eyes narrowed on Stefan before moving on to complete his survey of the room, “Speaking of which, where pray tell has my paramour gotten herself off to?”

“It would appear her whereabouts have become a rather thought-provoking conundrum,” Elijah said, while preparing himself a tumbler of scotch. “No one seems to have a clue as to the where’s of Bonnie’s location at present.”

“What do you mean no one has a _clue_?” Kol unwound himself from his pets and they scampered off. His blistering stare then strove to incinerate Elijah.

Rebekah released a sigh conceived from sheer frustration. “Oh compose yourself, Kol. As you well know, Bonnie insists upon a modicum of privacy. I’m sure she’ll be along shortly.”

“Brilliant, Bekah. What a clever girl you are! Why not lend the witch her blessed privacy so that she may be slaughtered without the threat of interruption?” Kol zipped towards the door, only to halt short of trampling their mother.

Unconcerned with their near collision, Esther hammered her youngest son with a well-aimed glare. “Explain, Kol.”

Kol stared beyond their mother into the corridor outside the door. Anxiety consumed the deceptive calm he often exuded. While trepidation marred his ever apathetic expression. Apprehension practically oozed from the pores of his face. In fact, his reservations came to be quite catching. The condemning effects provoked her sluggish heart beat to quicken.

What if her dove was indeed in danger? Elijah and Finn must have each arrived at the same conclusion, for her eldest brother abruptly discovered his footing, while the noble one relinquished his tumbler to the bar in favor of fastening Kol with a discerning glare. All of their ears were primed for a justification of Kol’s rather uncharacteristic cautiousness over another’s welfare.

“I will not inquire again, Kol,” Their mother vowed as her sorcery flared.

He wrenched his barbed scrutiny from the corridor to ensnare their mother in a thorny patch of urgent madness. “I haven’t any time to entertain explanations.”

“Make time, Kol,” Elijah insisted in a deliberate tone which tolerated nothing to the contrary.

Frustration set Kol’s jaw in an immovable clench. “Bonnie’s mishap involving her pushbike was no mishap at all.”

“What?” Their mother’s unblinking stare hurtled to Finn as her palm sought out the talisman resting on her bosoms.

“An unnamed vampire compelled the blond bit of fluff, many refer to as Carol, to-,”

“Caroline,” she corrected.

“Who bloody cares, Rebekah?” He growled.

“What of this Caroline, Kol?” Finn demanded as his hands fisted at his sides.

“The unnamed vampire compelled the chit to force the witch off Wickery Bridge,” he spun to regard Stefan. The urge to rip her boyfriend to bits shone bright in his calculating eyes. “I am to meet with the elder Salvatore this evening for the identity of said vampire. Until which time, Bonnie was not to be left to her own devices. At least, not until I had the opportunity to relieve the sodding jester of his head and heart.”

“You, fool,” Finn hissed. “I have a mind to dagger you myself.”

Elijah slid his hand into the pocket of his trousers. “Why are you only now informing us of these pitiable state of affairs?”

“That’s bleeding great, Elijah. Interrogate me while Bonnie is butchered by her would be assassin,” Kol snapped.

“Keep hold of your anxieties, Kol. Perhaps she’s occupied with Niklaus,” Their mother craned her neck to gaze at her. “Did you not say your brother was quite taken with Bonnie, Rebekah?”

“Nik? Impossible.” Kol whirled about to face their mother. “Why, he’s lazing about with the Martin witch in the South of Fran-,” his mouth slammed shut, before a sneer borne of scorn seized his lips, “Bloody Marcel indeed! Did everyone but me know Nik had inhabited his adoptive son’s unremarkable body?”

* * *

 

Bonnie left Ayana’s hut weighed down by everything the elder witch had dropped on her already buckling shoulders. At some point within a year or two of her birth she’d have to take the Mikaelsons’ memories of her. It was the only way to preserve the timeline and ensure their meeting would take place without even an inch of deviation from the original script.

Which was probably why they didn’t remember her, but then again she had yet to cast the spell. Or…had she already cast the spell and just couldn’t remember. Maybe she was just dreaming of shit that had already happened. Damn, this time traveling thing was confusing as limp dicks!

Before she could give more thought to her issues, various emotions cleaved her from her musings and tore her a new one. Rage, fear, self-hate, and dejection crashed into her. All stabbing her from different directions. Although each emotion demanded acknowledgement only one had her ready to do serious harm to herself. That’s the suicidal vibe she followed deep into the woods until she came upon a cave. The sound of a sledge hammer routinely meeting stone floated from the opening.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the cavern. Inside, sparks shot from her fingertips without any evocation on her part. Aquamarine flames landed in a makeshift fire pit. Soon after, the explosion of light singed away the oppressive darkness to reveal her beautiful monster. Kol had positioned himself near the back of the cave. He’d adopted a classic boxer’s stance as he repeatedly drove his fists into the cave’s stone wall like it was made of nothing more than leather and sand filling.

Chunks of gravel fell from the ceiling and littered the ground. Dusty residue clung to the air, creating a thickened atmosphere. His face was in full vamp mode, yet she saw through the anger to the searing pain that manipulated his facial muscles. It was the type of ache which thrived deep within, gnawing at the core until it redefined all that a person was or would be.

Unable to take his distress, she threw herself at his back and embraced him from behind. Before she secured her hold, he had her pinned to the wall by her neck. Although her magic swelled and whipped at her insides, she still did nothing to protect herself from his anguish fueled fury. Instead, she watched him without a twinge of fear, while waiting to accept his next move. Was she insane? No, she trusted him no matter the end. Even if he decided to make a gory mess of her.

When his bloody red eyes met hers, they stood there for, seconds, minutes, maybe even hours locked in a visual moment so emotionally charged it stole intimate pieces of them and offered the embezzled parts to the other.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kol fell to his knees. He wrapped himself around her lower half, while burying his face in her skirts. The first of his body shaking sobs knocked her dumb and left her at a lost as to what he needed from her. Each gut twisting wail introduced a new facet into their established relationship. It gave birth to an entirely new dynamic she found herself struggling like hell to understand.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and gently massaged his scalp. “Kol,” she whispered. Her voice shook from the effort of attempting to hold back her own tears. “T-talk to me, Toots. Tell me what’s wrong and I swear I’ll burn this bitch to the ground if it means making things right for you.”

He laughed. The sound was harsh and beyond broken, but it was still a laugh. “Your depraved tongue warms me without end, Sweetness,” he uttered in a hoarse thickened tone. In a graceful shift, he gave her enough space to sink to her knees. “Yet, you cannot repair what is so thoroughly fragmented within me.” He hung his head as he slightly angled his face away. “Niklaus spoke without error, my mother has crippled us all. I now lack the most fundamental part of me.”

“Your magic.” she murmured.

His mournful browns reincarnated her in their sights. He rested his forehead against hers. “For who am I without my sorcery?”

“A big fucking part of my everything.” she answered. Her nose and lips grazed his.

A hint of the smirk she’d come to know and breath for shoved at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, so I am not incorrect in thinking we are lovers in your impending summer.” His arms snaked around her waist, and then dragged her closer to his chest. “I always supposed I would pilfer away the little witch Niklaus spoke of so incessantly. The same witch who fled with my heart, the same day she captured my sibling’s.”

She cradled his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “What?”

“I was present the day you came tearing from the woods to smite my father.” Her mouth fell open and he gave her an indulging smile. “Who do you think slickened the ground? It was meant to be a jest, yet had I known father would arrive prematurely from his raid, I would have never…” His voice trailed off as a remorse flooded his eyes. “I followed when you absconded with Niklaus. I even witnessed you flicker from reality after you abandoned him to the white oak.”

His admission snatched her wig. He was there? “Kol-,”

“I vowed then to have you for my own,” he continued in a rush of words, almost as if he were afraid to stop talking long enough to gauge her reaction.

She attempted to wipe the shock from her face and force playfulness into her voice. “Please, you couldn’t have been no more than five or six. I like my men to be at least out preschool before I drop ‘em into the pros.”

“Perhaps, but once you perceived my sorcery-,” he broke off, before snatching his forehead from hers to glance away.

“It wasn’t your magic that had me choosing, Toots,” she placed a hand on his cheek and urged his face back around to hers. “You owned my ass with just a look, your sorcery be damned.” His eyes narrowed at the damning of his magic. She sighed. “But since you wanna be a bitch about it, we can share my magic until Niklaus is able to restore yours.”

“How is that even remotely-,” he began, but when she unleashed her magic and allowed it to flow freely into him, the potent energy shut his ass down.

A gasp tore from the back of her throat. Thank gawd she was already kneeling, because the extension of her which circulated throughout him weakened her knees along with every other joint within her body. Runny need gushed from her pop rocker, hot and ready. Just as it always did when it came to him.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to stare a gift horse in the shitter, Toots?” She managed to force through the slits of her teeth despite the unexpected blow out hanging ten on the fucking horizon.

He bit his bottom lip as his squinted stare zeroed in on her mouth. “I never assumed I would sense potent sorcery hurtling through my person again.” In a flash and a whirl, her back met the cave floor right before Kol’s body settled on top of hers. “You are bewitching, sweetness, and I mean to possess your heart, body and sorcery.”

“You already do,” she whispered.

He moved to claim her mouth and the damn donkey broke loose. A female scream slashed through the forest and penetrated the opening of the cave.

“Tatia!” He whispered. In seconds, Kol was off of her and helping her to stand. Without permission he yanked her into his arms bridal style, and then zipped them from the cavern.

Soon after, they came upon a monster sized grizzly bear ripping Tatia a better one. Her screams shredded their eardrums until they simmered down to a gurgling sound. Before she could yell at Kol to do something a blur and a gush of wind shot pass them. A tenth of a second later, the bear lay scattered over the forest floor in pieces.

Within moments, heart slashing sobs sent night creatures scurrying through the grass and tree leaves. The gut slaughtering sound blew chunks out of her peace of mind. She’d never before seen anyone wail like their world had collided with the sun.

Elijah fell to his knees and cuddled what was left of Tatia’s remains to his chest. As she and Kol stood by still not believing what they’d just witnessed, Esther rushed passed them, dropping to the ground next to her second eldest son. Grief and magic swirled about her as she wrapped her arms about Elijah. Soon they began to rock while she whispered to him. Bonnie could only make out a few words here and there, but each uttered sentiment she heard was more comforting and indulging than the last.

After several minutes of standing around and feeling more awkward than an impotent man standing in the center of a whore house with nothing in his pants but air and an empty bottle of Viagra, Esther glanced up at them.

“Bonnie, see Elijah to his quarters. Kol…” her eyes flicked down to Tatia’s shredded to hell body and back to Kol.

His eyes rolled and a sigh burst from his lips before he released his hold on her hand to wrestle Elena’s dead ringer away from a distraught Elijah. Once Kol had the body in his possession he zipped away. When the elder brother moved to give chase, Esther placed a somewhat calming but mostly restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Allow me to prepare her, my child.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead before she stood. “Now permit Bonnie to lead you back to your abode. I will send for you when she’s readied. And do not misremember, what I spoke of this eve.” With that said, Esther hurried away in the direction Kol ran.

Unsure about what else to do, Bonnie sat in the spot Esther abandoned. Taking care not to touch the grieving vampire, but sharing in his heartbreak just the same. Her fucking soul ached. His pain infected and disabled her. It rippled through, snatching the air she breathed, while disrupting the routine beat of her heart.

They’d never make it through this. Not alone, never alone. Together was the only way they’d thrive. However, for the life and death of her she didn’t know how to build him into the self-assured and very capable vampire she knew him to be. He wasn’t her Elijah, yet a piece of her still belonged to him. And no matter how broken he appeared to be, she’d hold him together even after he was able of doing so himself.

Swallowing the bitter fear of rejection, she cleared her throat and took his hand. Her fingertips expelled low hums of electrical jolts. He didn’t even flinch. “Where do you live, Elijah?”

He remained silent. After several minutes slithered by she gave up on him answering and then, “I no longer wish to live…or be.”

“Elijah!” His whispered confession took shots at her.

“Without her my reason to exist has fled, what meaning could the world offer now that its greatest wonder has departed?” He angled his face in the direction Kol disappeared as he heaved his way through the last of his now dry sobs.

The sharp jagged edge of his verbal blade entered her heart with wicked difficulty. Yep, the blow would definitely leave a mark, but she had to get the hell out of her feelings. He didn’t even know her, or what they were fast on their way to becoming. No, he’d just lost his wife. This was fifty-eleven fucks away from being about her. Giving herself a mental kick in the ass, she stood and allowed her magic to help pull him along with her.

Once on his feet and without a further word of encouragement, he began to lead her through the forest at a slow pace even for a human. Nearly thirty minutes after they started out, they ended up at the makeshift door of a hut substantially smaller than the family hut and Ayana’s. Minus a word to the damn first, he entered and she followed without an expressed invitation.

Inside, he collapsed on a pallet of animal furs and then snatched up what appeared to be a worn cleaning rag. Fresh tears pooled in his eyes as he buried his face in the shabby material. The intimacy of the act forced her to avert her gaze. The wound in her heart flared a little wider.

“She was with child,” his voice quivered almost as if it fatally injured him to speak the words. Her gaze swung to recapture him in her sight line. He now stared straight ahead at nothing while clutching the tattered dress in his hands. “She conceived before my father and mother…” a pair of lifeless dull browns found hers. “When I returned this moon rising, I discovered her attempting to flee. She branded me a monster, and said she would protect the babe even if she had to place a sea between her and I. Her first child was taken by her slain husband’s clan.” He swallowed and grimaced, before continuing. “She could not abide losing another.”

“Is that why she was running through the woods? She was running from you?” Bonnie crossed the hut in a few steps and sat next to him. Not giving a damn about permission she took his hand, while trying with everything in her not call Tatia a stupid bitch out loud.

“She was afraid of me,” he admitted.

Crazy as hell is what she was! What sane woman would leave the comforts of her home in the dead of night to run through a fucking forest (of all places) while pregnant? Now she saw where the hell Elena’s stupidity stemmed from. If the dumb bitch wasn’t carrying Elijah’s baby, Bonnie would’ve said, her carbon copied ass got the smoke she was looking for.

“Yeah that may be so, but her death wasn’t on you, Elijah,” she stroked the back of his hand with her free one. The ridged set of his lean muscled form relaxed a bit. She stopped fighting what felt natural to her and lay her head on his shoulder. Almost as if automatic he rested his cheek on hers. “Had it not been for that bear-,” he tensed, so she changed courses. “Eventually, she would’ve accepted you. How could she not? There’s not one natural law I wouldn’t break-,” she squeezed her eyes closed. Damn, damn, dayum! He didn’t need this from her. Especially, not right now. “Look, I’m gonna leave you alone to get some rest before we chuck deuces to Mystic Hell.”

She moved to stand, but he held tight to her hand. “I am not blind or indifferent to the longing in your eyes when you look upon me. Are we…intimate in your impending summer?”

“Very,” she reaffirmed with an unwavering stare.

He sandwiched her hand between both of his as tears leaked unchecked from his eyes. With a shit load of effort, he tried to force an imperfect smile on a set of perfectly disinclined lips. “Then I will attempt to greet the next rising with a shadow of hope.”

* * *

 

Katherine slammed on brakes, and the car screeched to a halt an inch or so shy of making road kill of the two figures. Lucy exhaled her frustration, before opening the passenger door of the car. Her mind flipped through a hundred different excuses, yet by the time she made it to the front of the vehicle she hadn’t come up with one good enough to explain away their botched mission.

“Mother is not pleased with you,” one of the two cloaked figures spoke.

“She’s given you a multitude of time to carry out her wishes, yet you stink of incompetency and failure,” The other more masculine emissary added. “I thought the Bennett line was known for results.”

“Child,” The slender figure of the two, smacked her lips. “You mean they were. Now it ain’t enough of them left to play a round of poker. And don’t get me started on the state of their magic. It’s a wonder they can still even light a candle.”

Get the fuck out of here! Lucy tempered the strong urge to spark their not so anonymous asses. Who the hell did they think they were deceiving? She recognized each of their pathetic magical signatures, before she slid from the car. They both were no more than supernatural scavengers, preying on naive witches to supplement their own lack of power. Well they had the right one at an even better damn time, because she was holding it down just for them. The only question left hanging in the air was if they were bad ass or stupid enough to come get it.

“We’ve dealt with the Martin witch, now we-,” Katherine began.

The masculine figure cut her the hell off. “You’ve dealt with no one. Greta Martin still lives.”

“Impossible,” Katherine’s uncertain gaze flicked to her for reassurance. “The witch is dead, right?”

Lucy folded her arms across her chest as mocking smile played fast and loose with her lips. “She will be soon enough. I hexed her, and there’s no, to be continued’s, once someone’s flesh has been branded by a Bennett hex.” Her smile doubled in size. “Isn’t that right, Jonas? Exactly, how long did it take your wife to wither and go stiff after my aunt Sheila bodied her deranged ass with a hellified curse?”

“You better watch your tongue before you mess around and lose it, Miss Thang,” The slender figure said as she cocked her head to the side.

Lucy laughed. “And who the fuck gonna snatch it, Gloria? You?” Her eyes rolled to consider the older witch as her chin rose in challenge. She allowed her magic to flare. When Gloria remained silent, “Hmph, that’s what I thought.”

“Bitch,” Katherine ironically hurled at Gloria, while wearing the bitchy smirk Lucy hated the most.

“Enough!” Jonas Martin yoked her attention back to him. “Spare us the bravado, Lucille. You and I both know this little tantrum it’s for naught. You’re not going to do anything, not while Mother holds your sister’s life line in the palm of her hand.”

Gloria snorted as her hand landed on her hip. “In the game of chest I think they’d call that a check, Miss Thang. Now the only move you have left, is the one Mother tells you to make.”

“Bring Mother the hybrid and your cousin’s head.” The hood of Jonas’ cloak fell from his head, putting the fanatical crazy swirling in his eyes on full display. “Fail again, and not only will you forfeit your sister’s life, but her soul will be destroyed as well.”

* * *

 

Slowly, awareness sharpened Bonnie’s senses and aroused her slow to comprehend mind. Something was off, but not entirely wrong. No longer did she lay upon a pallet of animal furs which covered an unforgiving hard ground. Instead, her body sank into the inviting softness of a pillow top mattress. Two rigid bands of muscle held her to an equally solid chest. Although discernment was slow it eventually set fire to the dim brain cells which hadn’t quite computed the obvious context clues assaulting her intelligence. She was back in the twenty-first century with Marcel.

He stirred behind her, and despite the sadness she felt over Elijah’s grief a smile crept across her face. The memories of their time together flared to the fore front of her mind. Shame on every damn thing! Why did Marcel have to be sooo fucking amazing? Just about everything about him and them knocked her head back. From their entertaining back and forth to the tip of his teasing tongue, he had it all. Her included. There’s no way in, Joseph Morgan, she could two step away from him.

She felt him sit up. “Where the hell am I?” He demanded, a couple of octaves from all out yelling.

“How the shit break am I-,” she rolled over and her words ran the hell out. Until the spirit of a dead sailor took possession of her tongue that is. “Who the donkey are you?! What in the fuckery did you do with, Marcel?” She snatched the bed sheet to her chest and proceeded to try and cover her bits and niblets. Seriously, who the fuck was this vampire?

“Don’t play bayou dumb with me, witch! Either you tell me what the hell is going on here, or I’ll drain your ass and ask somebody else.”

He reached for her neck with a clawed hand and snatched back a fist full of aquamarine flames. This time he did yell, in fact he screamed. “I’m gonna fucking end your little evil ass.” He growled once he was finally able to breathe through the pain.

“You’ll have to catch me first, pretty boy.” She jumped from the bed, making a dash for the room door.

“Oh, no the fuck you don’t.”

Marcel appeared in her path and cut her off from escape. He made another grab for her. This time both of his arms burst into flames. The howl he released nearly impaired her hearing. Not knowing a damn thing about the ins and outs of vampire anatomy, she rolled the fucking dice and kicked him in the sand bags. His wail abruptly came to a stop as his eyeballs almost popped from their sockets. “ _Four!_ ” Shoving him from her path, she took advantage of his momentary incapacity to race from the room only to collide into a wall of muscle.

She glanced up and a sight which was a gift to all aching eyes around the globe filled her vision to the brim. “Kol!” Her gaze fell to her bed linen clad body, before returning to his. “I can explain _all_ of this.” Marcel’s shrieked curses exploded from the other room. “Okay, well maybe _most_ of this.”

* * *

 

“So what you’re imparting is, you accompanied Marcel to his cottage and you…conversed for a bit?” Bonnie jerked her head yes hoping to rush past the part about Marcel making a meal out of her. “Then you were overcome with exhaustion.”

“Yes.” She pressed herself deeper into Elijah’s side. “After all the…talking I could barely keep my eyes open.”

Finn scoffed. He then ensued to condemn her with a hatemaker from his post behind Esther’s wingchair.

Rebekah hummed as she served her up a huge portion of the side-eye. Which was fucking epic, seeing as she practically sat in Stefan Salvatore’s lap on the opposing love seat. “We’re all well aware of your unwavering afterglow habits, Dove.”

Kol simply snorted, but kept hold of her hand. While Esther and Elijah refused to acknowledge the obvious. Embarrassment cooked Bonnie’s cakes to a, drier than sand, well done. The last place she wanted to be was in the yellow tea room of Mikaelson House on an undersized loveseat wedged between Elijah and Kol and being drilled with nosey ass questions by Esther in the most passively aggressive way possible.

“What’s this bat shit about you hurtling through time while you slept?” Stefan had the balls to question. Apparently they were King-Kong sized too, because he did so while stroking Rebekah’s inner thigh.

She jerked a thumb at him. “Why the fuck is he here?”

“Do not misremember yourself, Miss Bennett,” Finn reprimanded in a tone that had no business being utilized outside of their butcher shop.

Rebekah leveled her with a glare that nearly snatched all the skin off her nose. “Stefan has pledged his loyalty to the family and _me_.”

“Don’t you mean you compelled his loyalty, sister?” Kol snarked, before bringing their joined hands to his face. He then ran his nose along her wrist, inhaling her bit by painstaking bit.

“Shut it, Kol!” Rebekah snapped.

“Rebekah doesn’t have to compel my loyalty, it’s already unconditionally hers.” A taunting smirk raw dogged Stefan’s mouth.

Esther released a well-earned sigh, while uncrossing and crossing her legs at the ankle. “How often have you dreamt of the past, Bonnie?”

“Since the night of the Founders’ party.” She answered.

“You should’ve confided in mother before now, Miss Bennett,” Finn said, while placing a hand on Esther’s shoulder.

The elder witch, covered his hand with hers. “It’s perfectly fine, Finn. Bonnie isn’t obligated to disclose every facet of her life to me. She’s entitled to her skeletons in the cupboard.”

“Me not telling you about my dreams had nothing to do with me wanting to keep,” she made air quotes with her middle fingers, “ _skeletons in the cupboard_. I didn’t say anything because I was confused. Hell, I still am!” A frustration inspired exhale dashed from her mouth. “None of it makes sense. Here I am actually pheening for a vampire I have yet to meet. The very same vampire who’s supposed take my virginity and blow out my back as he ordains my magic.” Her head swung from side to side. “That shit is fucking bananas and everyone in this room knows it!” Her glare flicked to Stefan. “Even the slow one gets it.”  

“Defensiveness will not serve you well here, Bonnie. My dear, you are not under siege.” Esther moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward just so. Her non-accusatory tone calmed a majority of Bonnie’s frustrations. “If you’re agreeable, then please, describe your visions to me.”

The tenseness in her shoulders relaxed a little. It relieved her that Esther hadn’t referred to her jaunt through time as a dream again, because if she was flooring it above one hundred, she’d come to believe her escapes to the past were anything but. “Which one?”

Esther’s gaze travelled to her hand. “Is that the Bennett Talisman?”

“What?” Bonnie glanced down at the amber crystal still clutched in her palm. Somehow she’d forgotten all about the fuck ugly thing. “Oh, this?” She shrugged. “It just keeps showing up.”

Esther rose from her chair and closed the distance between them. She extended her hand. “May I examine it, Bonnie?”

She dropped the Talisman in her hand without the benefit of a second thought. Soon as the crystal touched her palm, Esther dropped like Mayweather had KO’ed her ass. Before any of them had a chance to respond, the splintering of wood and clattering of metal sounded from the foyer.

A hysterical bellow followed. “MOTHER!”

Everyone save Finn, raced from the tea room to the foyer. Bonnie, being the last to arrive, slammed to a stop when a half-naked Niklaus carrying a bloodied half-dead girl corrupted her field of vision. Her heart bounced like a fucking basketball in her chest. It was really him! And she didn’t know what the hell to do with herself. When the sizzling blue fires burning in his frenetic stare landed on her (lordt help her) she almost burst into flames. She was done! Just done!

Niklaus’ next words, however, tampered her urge to spontaneously combust with an ice cold verbal smack down to the grill. “You will save her, little witch. For if you don’t, I’ll devote the rest of my immortality to making sure you suffer firsthand the weight and agony of my loss!”


	13. Chapter 13

Bonnie blinked, once, twice, and then thrice. “Wait, what?” Did the man of her quite literal and very twisted dreams just threaten her over a bitch straight off the sidelines?

Why the hell would Niklaus come for her in such a reckless and disrespectful way? She didn’t get it. Over the course of her seventeen short years, she’d pissed off countless former friends and strangers alike. This she knew better than how many licks it took to get to the center of Rebekah’s Tootsie Pop. However, a few of those runners had deserved her ass to kiss. Yet to be fair, more times than not her attitude had stemmed from her simply not wanting to be fucking bothered.

Her Grams had called her an asshole by nature and the sweet lady had rarely ever spoken wrong. Especially in regards to her. Though, even with all of her dimming qualities on display to all who happened to cross her path, she’d never shown her backside to Niklaus. So why the hell was he so turnt on showing her his?

“Niklaus, your talent for inaccuracy never fails to astound.” Elijah strolled forth, passing the marble columns to stand next to the curving staircase. He unbuttoned, and then opened the jacket of his suit to slip a hand in the front pocket of his pants. “Firstly, you placed Bonnie’s well-being in jeopardy by abandoning Marcel’s body, and then forsaking her to his wrath-,”

Bonnie stuck her index finger in her ear and wiggled, because there could be no way in s hell blaze she’d heard her him right. “Say what now?”

The most posh Mikaelson continued, only pausing long enough to spare her an apologetic expression. “Had we not intervened your son would’ve surly dispatched her to the other side.”

“Okay when you say he abandoned his son’s body, what exactly do you mean, Elijah?” Her eyes flicked from him to Niklaus and back, before comprehension nearly forced them from their sockets. “Are you saying Niklaus was around here perpetrating as…?”

She gave her over-functioning brain a mental shake. Well now that was fucking unthinkable…but what if? Then that would mean everything she’d shared with Marcel, Klaus knew and experienced. The implications of such a thought almost forced her to swallow her tongue. He knew everything. From her low key obsession with him to her face time session with his son.

Every dirty detail of her encounter with his boy was on blast. Even their face time session…fucking, fuckety, fuckery! The tea had left the cup! Her mouth fell open as she longingly reached for a pair pearls to clutch. Had Niklaus really taken over Marcel’s body? Could something like that even be possible? Why the hell not? Time travel apparently was!

Niklaus’ flawed crystal blue stare filled with alarm as they swung back to her and swept the entire length of her body. Almost as if he wanted to make sure there were no visible testimony to his older brother’s claims. And there wasn’t, well not if he didn’t include the fifty-eleven hickeys which covered her neck, chest, and breasts.

In the midst of her rapid melt down Elijah carried on. “Now here you appear spouting demands of Bonnie on behalf of your,” he waved an indifferent hand at the lifeless girl’s body, his mouth slightly twisted in distaste, “concubine. Are you unaware of the many levels of contempt you’re demonstrating with such an affront?”

“Do not think to come to the defense of the very witch whom has betrayed me, Elijah. For it was she and her devious cousin Lucy who plotted to pilfer away everything I hold dear,” Niklaus raged. His deranged accusations crossed her eyes. Was he high? Could vampires even chase the sky? She gave herself a mental bitch slap— _stay on topic, Bennett!_

“ _My_ ,” Bonnie smacked a hand to her chest in emphasis, “Cousin Lucy?” She gave Rebekah a sideways glance. “Who in the shit break is a Lucy?”

Rebekah’s reassuring gaze met hers before she sniffed. “Nik, are you mad? Bonnie has no knowledge of this so called relative. In verity, you’re the only one among us who’s even had prior interaction with this supposed Bennett Witch.”

Shots from friendly fire forced Bonnie’s brow to cock and her antennas in an upright position. “What kind of interaction?” Had Niklaus tossed up her supposed cousin? Elijah was right about his brother’s levels of disrespect. Exactly how many ways had he try it?

“Yes, Nik,” Kol joined in as his mouth claimed its signature smirk, “what sort of interaction?”

Ignoring Kol and Rebekah, Niklaus’ blazing stare remained trained on her without so much as a blink in the ways of a visual pardon. “You vowed to always stand for me! Was your whispered promise no more than a product of your duplicity?!”

_Again with the accusations!_

This time his bellowed charges moved her feet forward. Dream her ass! How the hell could he have recalled what she said if the words never crossed her lips. She closed the distance between them, until the toe of her sneakers grazed the toes of his bared feet.

“So you remember me,” she stated with a slight nod of the head as she attempted not to feel a way about the half dead chick looking all damsel in distressed in his arms.

Niklaus’ blazing glare inched over her face in a slow—as snail shit—regard. By the time his pools of blue crept to her gaze, uncertainty had chipped away most of the seething animosity from his features. “I believed you to be a witch who honored her vows.” His voice broke over the word vows, and the show of emotion came straight for her feels.

“I-I am,” she assured. Her tone was quiet, while she permitted her gaze to skim over his broad forehead, to the silken smoothness of his golden brows, down the even slope of his narrow nose, until she finally arrived at a full set of cherry stained lips. Except for the bit of hazel (or the devil) which now speckled the crystal blue of his irises, he looked just as she remembered. Fucking flawless. “I said what I said, Niklaus. I’ll always stand for you, but what I won’t stand for is you handling me like the next bitch or worse…this bitch!” Her magic flared as she jerked her head to the unconscious girl in his arms. “Now you have ten seconds to tell me who Madam dry mouth is before I let go and let my magic deal with all of these issues!”

The chandelier overhead began to swing back and forth. Several pairs of eyes shot upwards to watch the potential threat.

“Bonnie, maybe you should calm the hell-,”

“Stay the shit bricks out this, Stefan! This is between me and motherfucking mine,” she said, refusing to back down even when Niklaus’ vampire face began to mar the mask of his humanity. A sneer quirk the corner of her top lip. Just who the hell did Cujo think he was scaring? She be damned if she allowed his true nature to intimidate her.

He returned her sneer with a Satan inspired glower. “I’m not yours. Your deceitfulness and cloak-and-dagger conspiring has invalidated that once certain truth.” He hissed, before his sparking blood tinged irises strayed to someone over her shoulder. “I’ve suffered one too many betrayals at the hands of my family. No more! I’d brave the sharpened point of a white oak stake before I’ll ever consent to anything other than unquestioning loyalty!” His darkened scowl swung back to her, with the full intention of shading the hell out of her. “A trait you no longer appear to possess. Once the hex on Greta-,”

“Greta, hmph,” Bonnie said with a roll of the eyes. She’d had about enough of his verbal grandstanding. He get off on reading the dictionary…they got it!

Niklaus’ eyes narrowed almost to close lid proportions, before he continued. “Once the hex you and Lucy placed on Greta is reversed your services will no longer be required. For I’ll be breaking the sun and moon curse in favor of unraveling the prophecy.”

A round of unnecessary air sucking and amplified sighs traveled around the foyer. The way his siblings reacted compelled Bonnie to believe Niklaus’ threat may have been old and tired, but it was still one he kept in heavy rotation.

“Then you might wanna hold on to my pink slip, because I don’t know anything about undoing any damn hexes,” she released the hold over her magic and allowed it to drive him back towards the still open door.

Esther rushed from out of nowhere to stand beside her. “Niklaus, you must believe Bonnie. She’s not responsible for Greta’s current predicament. Other powers are at work here.”

“Lady Mikaelson, Lord Niklaus is in residence,” Hannibal said in a slow shaky voice as he wandered into the center of the foyer.

“Yes, Hannibal,” Esther forced a polite smile, while inclining her head. “I’m well aware.”

“What the hell makes you think I’m responsible for what happened to your side bitch? I didn’t even know about her basic ass before you came charging in,” Bonnie asked, while ignoring the hell out of Hannibal’s ridiculously delayed commitment to household protocol. When he turned to leave, she stepped aside to allow him to shuffle away…slowly.

Rebekah slapped her hands together. “And he’s off to the races, gents and chits.”

“Inferior form, Rebekah,” Finn reprimanded, with an inaudible tsk present in his tone.

“Do not think you can assume the role of the witless with me, witch.” The volume of Niklaus’ voice soared in attempt to drag their attention back to him. “By doing away with Greta, I’d have no other recourse than to unravel the prophecy.”

“Please, you’re putting way too much thought into this.” Irritation ate her raw. There was no reasoning with him, and his Pittbull stubbornness was beginning to violate her damn nerves. “Besides, y’all came to me with all of this mess! Not the other way around. I could care less about you or your jumpoff. You know what,” She turned to Esther, “tell me how to reverse this shitty hex so I can get your over-paranoid son out my damn face, before he make me fuck him all the way up.”

“Well,” Esther wide eyed stare swept from her to Niklaus and back, “the disengaging of the hex beckons for you to lay hands-,”

“And let’s get one dick licking thing straight,” she growled through the slits of her teeth cutting Esther’s instruction in half, while jabbing her finger in his face. “Once I do this and your girl is back on her feet, I’m done! So you can forget about throwing anymore promises in my face I may have made to a better you in the past, because that shit’s done too.”

She slammed her hand down on Greta’s wrist. An aquamarine glow exploded from the pores of the unconscious witch’s body. When her eyes popped open. The bluish-green hue burst from her sockets, while the B etched into her inner wrist began to mend.

When the magic began to fade, Greta stirred for the first time since Niklaus arrived bellowing blood and murder. “K-Klaus?” She whispered as she blinked up at him.

Bonnie’s eyes rolled for the umpteenth time. “This bitch here,” she muttered under her breath, beforehand adding in a much louder voice, “If anyone other than him needs me, you can reach me at home.” And with that said she stomped out of the already open entrance.

* * *

 

“So your entire plan consists of you getting Bennett to fall for your vamp doll?” Damon questioned, as he allowed a skeptical gaze to move over Anna’s newborn vampire. He shifted in his chair and the vervain soaked ropes gouged itself deeper into the skin around his wrists and ankles.

Anna folded her arms across her flat chest, as her code brown stare silently dared him to find any flaws in her idiotic plan. “And why shouldn’t it? Ben’s hot.”

Unable to hold the urge any longer, he laughed in her face. “The only way little miss socially unacceptable is going to fall for your progeny is if he trips her.”

“Oh screw him! What the hell does he know anyway?” The baby vamp snapped. “He’s the dumb ass who got caught.”

Baby Vamp’s observation clenched Damon’s back teeth. The shit stain was right. He’d made the mistake of underestimating Annabelle. Now there he sat with a front row seat to the most basic villain think tank on the fucking planet. Every one of their plans sucked harder and longer than the last. Don’t even get him going on their latest blueprinted marvel. The damn idea sounded like every plot from every mediocre teen flick ever made. Anna would never get close to the Bonster if she relied on her pet vamp.

“You’re one to talk, Creeper! You want that cave open just as much as I do, yet I haven’t noticed you being any closer to the witch than we are,” Anna said, before spritzing his face with a spray bottle full of vervain.

He growled through the searing burn, while attempting to slaughter her flat ass by visual means. “That’s because Bonnie Bennett not only has a bullshit detector, she’s also brimming with magic. Had I possessed this knowledge before our initial meet,” he attempted to hunch his shoulders in a shrug, but the movement provoked the vervain ropes to cut even deeper into his wrists, “I’d have a Bennett Witch for an ally, along with her agreement to open that damn tomb. In fact, I’m working on something to place me in the Mikaelsons’ inner circle which will in turn put me elbow to elbow with the teen witch.”

Anna’s eyes rolled. “Please if I waited on you to penetrate the Mikaelsons’ inner circle then I’d never see my mother again. Besides,” she winked at the baby vamp who returned her wink with a fangy grin. “We’ve our own plan and you my enemy get front row seat privileges.”

* * *

 

As Elijah watched Bonnie seek her leave of Mikaelson House, a thrall stronger than anything he’d ever encountered compelled him to follow. With overwhelming longing he stared at the door as his Tom Ford’s Austin Lace Ups shuffled to give chase. However, the burden of being his brother’s keeper rooted him to his present location. After releasing a deliberate sigh he spun on his heel to drag his foolish younger sibling to the carpet, only to discover Niklaus also gazed at the entryway with a yearning which rivaled the depth of his own despondency.

“Something is profoundly out of order with you,” Rebekah hurled at Niklaus from her place by the stairs. “Must you anticipate treachery and fabrications from everyone you chance to stumble upon?” She leveled him with the weight of a scathing glare, while venturing to stalk ever closer. “Bonnie would never harm your little toy for the sole purpose of betrayal. Possessiveness and jealousy may have a role in such behavior, but never betrayal.”

Niklaus’ jaw set, and the unmovable clench provoked the muscle to twitch. “You haven’t an inkling of the true nature of that little she-devil’s character. She’s manipulated us all like chess pieces on a board since the beginning.” When Rebekah did no more than roll her eyes at his grand revelation, Niklaus swung his crazed glower to Elijah. “The Bennett’s are no allies to the Mikaelson’s. Their designs are only beneficial to the lot of them. What’s their family’s vow…they always take care of their own?”

“Edify me, Nik,” Kol demanded from his perch on the stairs. He leaned forward to regard Niklaus with a dispassionate bearing. “Does all of your nonsensical ranting equate to you forfeiting your claim to Bonnie? For if I am to spend my eternity without my sorcery, then my consolation will be her.”

“Not now, Kol!” Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, while his eyes squinted closed. He could not with his younger brother. Especially not while he still endeavored to manage the nonsensically paranoid one. “I’m already seeing to more than my share at present.”

Rebekah’s scrutiny sought and captured Kol over her shoulder. “Once again, you and your wits have parted ways, Kol.”

“The little witch will never be unburdened of my claim on her,” Niklaus growled through stiff lips. “Not even over my desiccated corpse, Kol.”

“Which can most assuredly be orchestrated, brother,” Kol stood as his hands opened and fisted at his sides in a perpetually redundant cycle.  

“Enough!” The sound of their mother’s voice reverberated off the walls of the foyer. “We will not accommodate conflict amongst ourselves! If you seek to engage adversaries then you have no further to look than our front gates!” Her very damning consideration flicked over them all, before descending on Niklaus. “You should settle Ms. Martin in the floral guest room, and then see to your son. He’s upstairs in your chambers.

The magical influence which affects his slumberous state will soon ebb, it’s your duty as his father to be there to orientate him when he awakens.” She then exhaled a long suffering sigh. “The rest of you should seize a moment to reflect upon how you will rid yourselves of the distractions which negatively impacts our thousand year old design.” When they lingered a moment longer than they should have, her patience slipped. “By all means, have your leave!” Elijah inclined his head, before turning to zip towards the still open door. “Elijah, wait. We should converse.”

* * *

 

Bonnie’s anger carried her all the way to her door before it deserted her. The weight of her mounting issues, abandonment being the largest of them all, buckled her. Unable to go any further she sank down on the top step of her porch. How could Niklaus handle her so damn recklessly? Over a new witch? And after all the bullshit they’d shoveled through. He’d even promised to have no other witch that wasn’t her. And yeah, she knew it may have all been just a dream, but somewhere deep within the depths of her she believed her time spent in the past had been legit. It had all—in some form, shape, or fashion—happened.

Of course it had happened! Niklaus had known her on sight. Recognition had blazed those crystal blues of his until they burned brighter than a Broadway spot light. So why the hell was he giving her dust like some dry mouth side chick? Her magic snapped, popped, and sizzled the inner lining of her vessels as her anger once again flared. Recharged by a shit load of justified fury, she jumped to her feet. To hell with him and the witch he chose!

She stomped into her house, and climbed the stairs all while muttering nonsense and wishful curses under her breath. “Talking about he’ll unravel the sun and moon curse…yeah you do that, and while you’re wasting your time breaking curses I’ll be getting my back blown out by your brothers…and your sister…stupid ass!” When she reached her room she shoved open the door and flicked on the light. The sight of a bruised and swollen Tyler lying in her bed slammed brakes on her march. “Who in the shit break did that to your face, Ty? Was it your dad?” Her heart attempted to take out her rib cage as she rushed over to where he lay. A shadow darkened his battered features before he looked away. “Oh my menstrual panties! So it _was_ that dick bag who did this to you!”

She stretched out a hand to touch the dark red splotch on his jaw and he curved her by jerking his face from her reach. “It’s fine! He’s been stressed lately, and I’ve been fucking up.” He shrugged. “My non-stop bullshit sent an invitation to his hands.”

“Look at you!” Bonnie magic swelled inside of her, until her lungs had barely enough room to deflate and expand. This cut her air supply exponentially, but she didn’t give a damn. She was too pissed to breathe! What was it with old over privileged cock heads who didn’t know how to keep their fucking hands to themselves? “You are nowhere near close to being fine?”

“What’d you fucking care?!” He exploded as an unnatural amber light set fire to his normally chocolate brown gaze. A wall of raw musk and a sea of wildness blasted her ass and damn near knocked her to the ground. The hell?

“T-ty?”

He ignored her. “You haven’t got at me in weeks! Not since those fucking weirdos came to town.”

His explosion of uncalled for feelings and tremoring body parts snatched her head sideways, pulling her focus from the sudden influx of mystical energy. Something about his twitchy demeanor looked hella familiar. “Okay, you need to calm down and peep the picture for what it is and not what you want it to be, Tyler. You and I haven’t crossed each other’s zones since you began digging in Vicki! And you started taking her down months before the Mikaelsons skipped across city limits. So come at me with facts or don’t motherfucking come for me at all.”

“I don’t care about Vicki Donovan, Bonnie.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her across his lap.

Her eyes rolled as she reacquainted herself with the brick wall he had the nerve to call a chest. “Yeah, then what do you call what you and her have going?”

“Peer pressure,” he whispered, while nuzzling the curve of her neck. “Since everyone else was doing her, why shouldn’t I have a turn?”

She elbowed him in the stomach and didn’t even receive a grunt on his part for her effort. “See, now that’s the kind of thinking that’s gonna set fire to your golden showers. But hey, if you wanna take a dive in gonorrhea infested waters because everyone else is doing it who the fuck am I to slide in your way?”

“What do you mean, who the fuck are you?” He withdrew his face from her neck to lock eyes with her. Seriousness and conviction overran his cocksure features. “You’re who you’ve always been to me.”

Eighth grade butterflies came back with a fucking vengeance. Everything she felt for him back then came knocking on her heart with more purpose than a Jehovah’s Witness. “And who’s that, Ty?”

“My girl, Bennett. You have always been and will always be my girl,” he murmured before his lips discovered hers. When he moved to add pressure to the kiss, he winced before pulling away.

Her eyes narrowed as her gaze focused on the split in his swollen bottom lip. Which only served to reignite her anger. She reached up and allowed the pad of her thumb to glide across his bottom lip. “This isn’t okay. Your face is not his got damn stress reliever! If he wants to decompress he should try fucking his wife more, maybe then she wouldn’t be getting her infidelity on with the deputy mayor.” She mentally bit her tongue as she swore under her breath. “No offense, Ty.”

“I’ll live, Bennett,” he said with a careless lift of the shoulder.

She shook her head, while climbing free of his lap. “Not if your dad keeps dragging your ass like you owe him money.”

“Bonnie, please,” he exhaled a sigh that threatened to go on for days. “Can we not go back forth about this right now? I’m really tired and all I wanna do is rest.”

Doubt scrunched her face. “Are you sure? Because those look like some pretty vicious head shots. Maybe you should hold off on sleep until you see a doctor.”

“I don’t need to see a fucking doctor!” He leaned forward to press a panty dropping kiss to her mouth, pain be damned. “All I need is rest and two arms filled with you.”

Without even a hint of a warning he snatched her in his arms and cuddled her back to his chest. She struggled to pull away, but his grip was unbreakable and his embrace felt fucking phenomenal. She permitted him to settle them in the center of her bed in a spooning position liked they’d done countless times before over the last four years. It was exactly what her abused feelings needed after being shut down by Niklaus.

After a fifty-eleven minutes of silence, deep breathing disturbed the curls on the back of her neck. She started to turn to look at him, but her phone vibrated in her pocket. She snatched it from her hoodie and glared at the screen. The unfamiliar number which lit up her phone somewhat allowed her to exhale. She needed at least a beat or three to square her mental space before she could deal with the Mikaelsons.

She hit the green button, and then pressed the phone to her ear. “What?”

“Uh, Bonnie?” A female voice questioned.

“Yeah, who’s this?” She snapped as she angled her head to glare at the ceiling. She loathed when people acted as if they didn’t know who the hell they called. See now this is the reason she preferred to rock with pagers.

“Um, you don’t know me, but Jeremy Gilbert gave me your number.” The voice paused. “I’m Anna.”

* * *

 

Although Klaus’ trained his gaze upon a slumbering Greta, another witch consumed his every thought. Every piece and part his brain devoted itself to discerning the current situation in which he discovered himself, while also endeavoring to interpret every syllable of each word which had crossed his little witch’s lips during their prior confrontation. And yes, he still considered Bonnie Bennett as his no matter her transgressions. Though, she may have been detached, she remained an undeviating part of him. Much like his hands, feet, and John Thomas. If he’d never incised them for their countless blunders, why would he ever entertain amputating his ever captivating little witch?

Yet, her run at treachery couldn’t be excused. How dare she think to plot against him? After all they’d travelled through, one would assume her loyalty had surpassed the limits of doubt. However, she’d allowed jealousy to manipulate her, into being no better than his ever untrustworthy family. Misguided jealousy, if truth was to be professed! Although he cared for Greta, his emotions for his little witch was indisputable and beyond compare. To even attempt to such a fete would be the equivalent of endeavoring to hold the flickering flame of a candle to a raging inferno that is forest fire.

A stirring in the bed tore him from his musings. Without hesitation he abandoned his seat to perch on the edge of the mattress next to Greta. Slowly, she rolled on her back, and then her lids fluttered until her mocha gaze locked with his. Once clarity reestablished itself in the depths of her eyes, she sat upright and wrapped her arms around him. An extended exhale slid from her lips.

“You’re okay,” she breathed out on the heels of her sigh. “Thank the rightful mother of magic.”

“Of course I’m okay, love. It’ll take more than a scheming Bennett witch to fail me,” he slightly leaned back out of her embrace when a suspicious wetness saturated the shoulder of his Henley. Tears trickled down her cheeks. He wiped away the offending tell of her emotions from her face. “You however nearly took a tumble to the other side.”  

She snatched an arm from his shoulder to stare down at her wrist. After a moment of assessment, disbelieving eyes arrested his. “The Bennett brand…it’s gone,” she sputtered as she raised her unblemished forearm, “h-how’s this possible?”

“The little witch,” The memory of Bonnie’s over dramatized exit earlier, forced his eyes to roll. It’s a wonder the chit had no aspirations for the stage. “She removed the hex and healed you.”

“That’s impossible! Even a Bennett witch can’t undo a curse that’s been cast by another of her line. Not unless she’s…” The almond shape of her eyes flared until they became impossibly round. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” The vibrant caramel tent of her skin lost its glow. “She’s the doyenne of the Bennett line…she’s the prophesized Bennett.”

He tore himself from her embrace and stood to condemn her with a glare. “It doesn’t matter. Our plans to unravel the sun and moon curse will proceed.”

“But why, when the prophecy is within your grasp?” Greta climbed to her knees and perched herself on her heels. “The prophesized Bennett-,”

“Betrayed me! She bloody betrayed me!” He bellowed from the bottom of his lungs. “The little witch sent Lucy along to coerce my compliance and when the disingenuous bitch failed, the wicked harpy attempted to dispatch you to the other side to ensure I had no other recourse than to unravel the prophecy. So I’m inclined to damn her along with her wants!”

Wide eyed patience composed Greta’s quite pleasing features. “O-okay, well fuck her then! You know there is no love lost between me and the Bennett’s. If you wanna break the sun and moon curse, then I’m down to assist you in any way I can.”

“Then by all means rest up, love.” Her unquestioning compliance brought a rather indulgent smirk to his anticipating lips. “When you awake we have doppelgänger to hunt.”

* * *

 

Kol strolled through Damon Salvatore’s chambers examining his belongings before discarding them over his shoulder with no care of the value. Where the sodding hell had he misplaced himself? The bugger would pay dearly for squandering his time. Especially, when every cell in his body ached to be with his witch. Alas, her safety took precedence over his lust and comfort. With added determination he resumed ripping Salvatore’s wardrobe apart until he came upon a wooden keepsake coffer concealed behind a rack of pointless winter garbs.

Misusing not another minute, he tore away the bolted lid to examine the rubbish within. A tiny portrait of Stefan, Damon, and Katerina Petrova ensnared his focus. The image provoked his eyes to roll. Her affinity to wedge herself between siblings offered homage to all of the mass produced redundancies who came before her. He never could comprehend the allure Tatia and her flighty fellow doppeldoxies held over the human male and vampire population. Sure their lifeblood could increase the potency of a spell exponentially, yet aside from them being a sought after magical ingredient the uninspiring lot was always a bit bland for his tastes.

Underneath the photograph he discovered a bundle of yellowed envelopes addressed to the elder Salvatore from Emily Bennett. His eyes narrowed as he considered the missives. Is this the ancestor to which Salvatore had referred? As he tore one of the correspondences from the parcel the unmistakable click of a crossbow met his ears, and soon after a swishing sound of whittled wood slicing through the air followed. Allowing his original instincts to conduct his movements, he spun on his heel to face the open door of the wardrobe, in time to pluck a soaring stake from the air before it buried itself in the center of his chest.

The culprit eyes bulged from his sockets as he muddled about in an attempt to reload another stake into the crossbow. In tenths of a second, Kol subtracted the distance between them. Once he stood before the slovenly dressed assailant, he knocked the weapon from the human’s incompetent hands. He then gathered the front of his wrinkled plaid button down shirt in his clenched hand and slammed him into the wall of the wardrobe, before hoisting him upwards until his feet dangled several inches above the ground.

After taking a moment to scrutinize the reprobates characterless facial features Kol spoke, “Well aren’t you vaguely familiar, darling. Don’t tell me, I slaughtered your intended in a bathhouse in Amsterdam. Now you’re here in pursuit of vengeance on behalf of your fallen would be husband.”

“Close,” the scent of bottom shelf bourbon saturated the bugger’s breath, and seeped rather uninvitingly from his pores, “You’re in my World History class, but it’s not you I was looking for. My beef’s with Damon. He killed my wife and-,”

Kol drove the stake through his heart, effectively pinning the history instructor to the wall. “Many apologies, Mr. Saltzman, but I find your tales of woe even more tedious than your third period discussion. Rest assured however, when my business with Damon Salvatore is concluded know his end will be as glorious as yours. You have my word.”

Kol spared a moment to retrieve the letters from Salvatore’s rubbish pile. Without sparing a glance to the dangling body of barely functioning drunk, he then pursued his leave.

* * *

 

Bonnie slammed her fist against the cheap aluminum of a motel door. Moments later a short petite Asian girl with delicate facial features answered. She was the quirky type of pretty that chick flicks and raunchy comedies would bust a load to exploit, but Bonnie wasn’t a sleazy Hollywood casting director. And she damn sure wasn’t there for the fuckery. No she had a jacket pocket full of rocket man and binder filled with an original guaranteed A+ term paper. She wanted this drop over and done with faster than Caroline Forbes could run her damn mouth. After the beating Tyler received from his fuckwad of a father, his mental space was in the dead zone and the last thing he needed was to be there alone.

“It’ll be seventy-five for the rocket man and one twenty-five for the original term paper,” she said, while glancing up and down the walkway to make sure they weren’t being watched or worse, overheard.

“Oh, hey.” The girl bobbed her head as she backed up and opened the door wider. “Come on in, while I grab it.”

Frustration scrunched Bonnie’s face and narrowed her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to waste time by going into an ass crack of a motel room, but if this would move along the drop then so fucking be it. She released a sigh meant for a Shakespearian play, and then stepped inside and closed the door after her.

The girl made a show of searching through the night stand next to the bed while rambling away, “Ohmigod, Jeremy is sooo dope for putting me on with you. You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for a way to bump my GPA, and your hook up with the ‘dro doesn’t hurt either.”

“It’s organic homegrown, I don’t fuck with hydro,” she mumbled, while trying to ignore the upset going on with her magic.

“Yeah, well I heard it’s that hella-,”

A crash from a closed door, Bonnie could only assume was the bathroom, cut Anna off. Bad vibes snatched the hair at the back of Bonnie’s neck straight as goosebumps prickled her skin.

She whipped her head around to glare full on at the door. “Uh, what the shitty hell was that?”

“Hey, Babe?” Anna held up a finger as she forced a smile that her nut brown eyes refused to commit to. “You good in there?”

“Shit is going off without a fucking hitch in here, Sweets,” A familiar voice called back. “Did you get the ‘dro?”

Bonnie’s eyes rolled. “It’s organic-,”

“Almost,” She said as she turned back to the night stand, “Have you seen my wallet?”

“In your bag,” The voice responded.

“Bonnie, do you mind getting my bag?” She tossed over her shoulder, “It’s in the closet behind you.”

So who the hell was she now, the maid? Bonnie attempted to let go of her pettiness and spun around to check the closet. She frowned, it was empty save the metal hangers. Another crash and a thud sounded off. She whirled in the direction of the bathroom only to come face to fangs with Anna. Son of a street walking hooker! This bitch was a vampire! Since when?

The bathroom door slammed open and out hopped a bound, gagged, and grunting Damon Salvatore. What kind of super freak show did they have going on there? Anna’s clawed nails ripping into her upper arms defrosted Bonnie’s stunned motionless state. Bands of aquamarine flares exploded from the palms of her hand and struck Anna in the center of her chest. The force of the blow lobbed her at the far wall of the room. An unmistakable snap and crack, herald the fracturing of the eternal teen vamps neck and spine.

“Annabelle!” A dark haired blur rushed passed her. Ben McKittrick?

“Memett!” Damon garbled out despite the washcloth shoved into his mouth, while raising his tied mangled wrists. “Mum, ie, mme.”

“Oh hell no! I’m not untying you. For what, so you can come for me too?” she snapped as she attempted to step around him to the door. “Whatever weird shit y’all have going on around here I don’t want any-,”

Before she could finish her rant, Damon shoved her to the side. A mere second after, his bound hands penetrated Ben’s chest wall and a tenth of a second after that he stepped back with Mystic Falls’ High former star quarterback’s dripping heart clutched in his fist. With zero fucks, he allowed the heart to drop to the floor as he managed to spit out the washcloth.

“This is my second time saving your Duncan Hines. You owe me, Bennett,” he declared, while serving her with a smirk that oozed self-entitlement.

“Yeah?” She slid from the bed she landed on to regain her footing. “Tell you what, hold your breath and I’ll be right back.”

“Alright, I’ll admit,” He hopped in her path, cutting off her exit to the door. Her eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hands further into the air in a mock surrender. “You and I got off on the wrong foot-,”

“Wrong foot?” She chortled. “Your deranged ass put me in a choke hold! There’s not a right foot shuffling around on this planet that’ll ever make that shit okay. You say I owe you, how about I not substitute your undead ass for firewood?”

Damon’s eyes flared at the aquamarine embers kindling at tips of her fingers. He took couple of steps back as if that would be enough to remove his ass from sparking distance. “You’re right. Who gives two dry snatches about the past? Not me. Besides, it’ll be in both of our joined interests to let go of old shit and focus on alliances that’ll benefit the future of our budding friendship.”

She scoffed, before marching pass him to the door. “Vamp, be gone with all that fiction you spitting. I’d rather get to know that volley ball from Cast Away before I ever consider you as a bosom buddy.”

“Okay, so you don’t want to be close, what a fucking relief! Truthfully, I need you as friend like I need vervain in my blood supply. So let me speak in a language you understand. Word is you’re rather fluent in tit for tat,” he yelled out after her. “Help me save my girl, Bennett, and I’ll tell you where to find your mother-,”

She paused, before releasing a laugh which would’ve had the wicked witch of the west hating from the sidelines. “Please, just stop! Does it look like I give a micro dick fuck about which hole Abby has chosen to rot away in?”

“What about your father? Does his whereabouts interest you?” Damon demanded.

Her laughter rattled to a halt as her magic snatched her around to face him. “Don’t do this, Chester. The last place you wanna put your name is on my shit list.” Her sorcery swelled inside of her. “If you’ve harmed my dad-,”

“Harm your dad?” Feigned shock corrupted his lukewarm features. “Why, I’d never do such a thing, Bennett. He’s all you have now. I could never hurt you in such a way, but…” his loud blue gaze arrested hers.

“But what?” She ground out.

“Can your dad say the same?” He hopped over to the bed and flopped down. “Have you ever wondered if Rudy the invisible is capable of hurting you? Matter of fact, where do you think Mr. Ghost Dad is right now?”

Her hands fisted at her sides. “Stop being extra and say what the hell you trying to say, cum catcher.”

“Oh, I can do you one better, Bennett. Give me your word you’ll perform a simple spell to free my girl and I’ll show you where your father keeps his dirt and bodies,” He raised his bound hands once again, and then wiggled his blood stained fingers. “So what do you say, Bennett? How about you give me your tit for my tat?”

 


End file.
